be smaller than one of the newer Half Breeds, with a leaner frame and a snout that twisted into a beak. As it opened its mouth to growl at her, the creature dug its hands into the floor, pushing curved claws through the boards. Its dark eyes fixed intently on her while blinking with flapping, vertical lids.
“I think it’s a Mongrel,” Paige whispered. “Or it used to be.”
“That is no Kushtime,” Nadya said. “Not like one I’ve ever seen.”
“No. There’s something wrong with it.” Paige couldn’t stop looking at its eyes. No matter how strange its body was, there was something in its eyes that brought her mind all the way back to Kansas City when Liam was dragged underground by one particular burrowing Mongrel. That creature’s name snapped into her mind almost immediately.
“Max?” Paige whispered.
A flicker of recognition drifted across the creature’s face, but was pushed back by something else. Its eyes darted toward a second shape in the corner of the room farthest from the door. Tucked away behind the foot of one overturned bed was a more recognizable horror. The Half Breed scraped at the floor and stared at Paige with wide bloodshot eyes. It was in its resting phase where most of its fur was still tucked away to expose pale, leathery flesh. Werewolves in that form shunned the sunlight but weren’t destroyed by it. As near as Paige had been able to figure, Half Breeds transformed simply by flexing whatever muscles were required to do so. The effort made their bodies tense to the point of trembling and drove them to become wilder than the wounded creatures they were. If the trait was given to them by design, it effectively shaped them into taut killers that were always snapping their jaws and full of nervous energy. Paige didn’t like to think of it that way, however, because the god she prayed to would never design such a thing.
As she reached for her boot, the Half Breed shifted its gaze to follow her hand. The creature didn’t have a way of knowing what she was reaching for. Half Breeds ran on instinct and pain. This one’s instincts drew it from the shadows even farther as its panting grew into a snarl. Max watched Paige as well and growled in a way that caused every other living thing in that room to take a step back. There was no doubting it now. A Full Blood had reshaped Max into this thing. Paige’s scars could feel it. She just wasn’t sure she could believe it.
Lowering her shotgun, she closed her hand around the grip of her machete. She felt the rush of adrenaline shoot through her as its thorns bit into her palm. The connection between herself and the weapon allowed her to make the blade narrower so she could ease it from the holster without making a sound.
The Half Breed stretched out a forepaw that looked more like the gnarled hand of an elderly man with nails that had been filed down to points. Muscles beneath its skin twitched spastically, tugging the corners of its mouth to reveal fangs coated with old blood that had caked on and dried to flaky rust. Its eyes were bloodshot and its chest swelled with the effort of hauling its body up onto all four legs. Its entire frame quaked when it leaned forward, and its eyes widened even more, as if the lids were being pulled back by fishhooks connected to the wall. Once Paige stopped moving, however, it followed suit.
“All right,” she said. “It’s definitely guarding something.”
“Maybe it is buried in the floor.”
Paige studied the floor carefully, focusing on the spot where the boards had been torn up. Easing a little flashlight from her pocket, she took a quick look at the edges of the hole. Layers of the foundation were visible, along with cement and thicker pieces of wood that had either been beneath the floor or fallen in later. That hole went all the way down to the dirt, which looked to have been turned and then piled back in. Careful not to shine the light into the faces of either shapeshifter, Paige watched both creatures for any sign that they were about to attack.
Max stayed rigid and still. His body was relaxed and his eyes were all but dead. Something was holding him in that spot. Even a wild animal had more going on inside its head than that. The Half Breed presented an opposing picture. It strained and snarled as if testing the boundaries of an uncompromising leash. Its pale skin trembled and its muscles flexed in an erratic rhythm. Only when Paige backed away from the pit in the floor did either of the creatures retreat to the spots from which they’d come.
“I’ll take the Mongrel,” Nadya said. “You take the Half Breed.”
“No.”
“You want the Mongrel? Fine.”
“No,” Paige repeated insistently. “They’re not attacking us. They’re just guarding. Have you ever seen anything like this?”
“Never.”
“Maybe they’re just here to raise an alarm.” Looking at Max’s face, Paige couldn’t help but feel sorry for the Mongrel. She’d only met him once for less than a few seconds, but he played a big part in ending the Kansas City siege. Now, his body was twisted into something else, his brain was somehow on hold, and she suspected Liam had something to do with it. If that was the case, the Mongrel was most likely going through hell. “Keep watch outside,” she said. “Let me know if you think anyone knows we’re here.”
“What are you going to do?”
Holding her weapon down so as not to pose a threatening silhouette, Paige backed through the door and into the short hall connecting the two bedrooms. From there she could watch as both of the creatures retreated into their respective corners and settled back into the shadows. Fishing her cell phone from her pocket, she said, “I’m checking to see what the hell this could be.”
Nadya backed out even farther and headed out through the front door.
Once her number was dialed, Paige tapped the Call button.
“Paige?” Stu asked as soon as the connection was made.
“What, you’re not going to thank me for calling?” she whispered. “What happened to phone manners and professionalism?”
“You sound tired. What happened?”
“A lot’s happened,” she replied. “That’s why I’m calling.”
“Why are you whispering?”
“What do you have in your records about Atoka, Oklahoma? And I don’t mean anything from the last few days. I mean something that might be in your files about weird activity or strange energy or …” Pausing because she couldn’t believe what she was about to say, she just spat it out instead of wasting time looking for better phrasing. “Or buried treasure.”
“Buried treasure?”
“I don’t know. Just buried something. You have anything like that connected to Atoka?”
There was a smirk in his voice when he replied, “Nothing jumps out at me, but I’ll check.” After a few seconds of tapping, he said, “Sounds like we’ve got some reception issues.”
“I know.”
“So you hear that voice?”
Paige listened for a moment but could only hear the tapping of Stu’s fingers on his keyboard beneath a thin layer of static. “What voice?” she asked.
“Yeah. Sounds like another call or …that’s gotta be on your end of things. It just mentioned your name.”
“I don’t hear anything.”
The tapping stopped. “You didn’t just hear that? Or …or
Paige’s eyes drifted toward the shadows in the other room. “Hang on,” she said before lowering the phone so she could listen without the distraction of any noises coming from the call. Even when she closed her eyes and concentrated, she couldn’t make out anything more than the steady panting and the scrape of branches against the house. “Let me ask you something,” she said when she lifted the phone back to her ear. “Is the voice male or female?”
“It’s definitely a man. Sounds like it’s whispering. Did you find it? It was a lot louder when you were quiet.”
“No, I didn’t find anything and I still don’t hear anything.”
“That’s really— Hang on! You know what it sounded like?”
“Still haven’t heard it, but please drag this out a little more,” Paige snapped.
“That sounded like an EVP!”
“You mean those voices you guys hear on tape recorders that come from ghosts?”
