Kitty Raises Hell

A wolf yelps, high-pitched, pain-filled.

She and her mate together—he is at her shoulder—race, bounding in huge strides over brush and bracken until they find their threatened brother.

Not one of the weak ones. A strong male, the beta, able to take care of himself, yet something pins him to the ground, a weight on his back. He yelps and snaps, struggles to twist his mouth around to bite, to free his claws to slash at the thing. He only scratches at dirt. There is a scent of scorched fur.

Nothing attacks their kind. Unless they corner desperate prey, they have no enemies except for two-footed death—enemies from the other halves of their beings. This is something else. Maniacal, deadly, a shadow rising from the earth itself to swallow them.

She attacks. Her mate follows from the other side. Jaws open, throats rough with snarling, they can’t see what they attack, they only know something must be there.

But nothing is. They crash into each other and fall to the ground at their brother’s side, stunned.

Something sinks against her, pressing her. Human hands, but they’re too large, too strong, and too hot. In a panic she lurches, claws into earth, struggling to escape. Writhing with every muscle, she manages it, cries out, and then all her wolves are running. A burning smell fills her and drives her to panic.

They can run very, very fast when they need to.

She nips at flanks, pins her ears at the slow brothers and sisters, urging them on, faster. This is for their lives. The forest becomes a blur, the moonlight a tunnel through which they fly. Lungs pumping, hearts pounding, mouths open to take in air, tails straight out. Miles pass effortlessly. The pack together is a sea of motion.

The smell of sulfur fades. Soon she senses only forest, pine and damp, earth and life, as if the danger has never happened. She lopes around her pack and gives a signal to slow, to settle. The wolves mill, uncertain, panting, ears back—frightened.

So is she. She can’t hide it. But she’ll watch out for them.

She leads them to a place if not as comfortable as their usual den, at least defensible. It’s a space of sheltered trees on the side of a hill, open on all sides—she can watch anything that approaches, smell the air all around. They have plenty of chances to escape. She paces, counts her wolves by scent. All here. All safe, though shaken. She settles in to patrol. To keep watch until morning.

She watches the sunrise. The pack sleeps around her—naked, furless. They’ve all slipped back to their other halves. It’s sad, seeing them like this. But they still smell of pack, of family. Exhausted, sleep is heavy in her eyes, but fear keeps her upright.

Her mate wakens, and his furless hands reach for her. She sniffs him, wet nose tracing his limbs.

“Kitty.” His voice is thick, anxious. “You have to sleep. Come back to me, please.”

She licks his face, saying, But I’m here, I’m right here.

Others wake, moving slowly, groaning. Some of them flinch, looking around wide-eyed.

She yips. I’m standing guard, you see? I’m keeping watch.

“It’s our turn, Kitty. Let us watch. Sleep now.” He bends his face to her shoulder. She squirms under his touch. His fear increases hers.

“What’s wrong?” another asks.

“She won’t sleep.”

“Can’t say I blame her.”

Her mate again, almost desperate. “Shaun and Mick are keeping watch, okay? You can rest now.”

He whispers by her ear, soothing. Strokes her flanks. Urges her to sleep. Shelters her with his presence.

Her eyes close. She can no longer stand. When she sleeps, she’s curled up tight, stiff with worry.

I convulsed with the feeling of falling. My muscles twitched in anticipation of pain.

But I lay on solid ground, the earth of a forest, and with a great, frightened heave of breath, my lungs filled with Ben’s scent.

His embrace tightened around me. “Shh, shh. You’re okay. It’s okay.”

The morning was bright around us. Late morning, by the look and smell of things. I was usually up much earlier than this, the day after running. But Ben and I were both still naked. He held me close, his front to my back, his breath stirring my hair. We weren’t in our usual den. His whole body was taut with anxiety.

“What happened?” I sat up, struggling free of him but still keeping hold of his hand, his arms. I still smelled burning coals, like the woods were on fire. But all around me was calm.

“I’m not sure,” Ben said. “Something came after us last night.”

“Is everyone okay? Where is everyone?” We were alone in our shelter.

“I sent most of them home. I thought they’d be safer away from here. Mick and Shaun are still here.”

Watching our backs. Memories returned—images, emotions. We’d all been terrified. How far had we run? I didn’t recognize this place. I started shivering and cuddled closer to Ben.

“You’re freezing,” he murmured. But I couldn’t get dressed, because my clothes were back at the old den, miles from here. I looked around, dazed, trying to get my bearings, glancing over my shoulder for something that burned.

Mick and Shaun returned. Fully clothed, they might have been anyone. They’d walked out, studying the area between here and where the attack had come, looking for any evidence of what had happened. They brought our clothing with them. I dressed quickly, trying to get warm.

“What’s out there?” I said.

“Nothing,” Shaun said, shaking his head. “Just that smell.”

The smell of a burned forest. Unseen, a bird called, the sound echoing.

“Shaun—you’re okay?” I remembered an image: Shaun was the wolf who’d been attacked first.

“I’m fine,” he said, but he looked tired and seemed to be favoring a shoulder. All I remembered from the attack on me was shock and anger.

“Could you tell what it was? What do you remember?” I asked.

He shook his head. “It’s blurry. Things are always blurry the morning after—you know. But I could have sworn it had hands. Like it grabbed me and shoved me. It was strong—it must have been huge.”

“But did you see anything?”

“No, nothing. But the smell—”

“Fire,” I said. I could still smell it, and the odor triggered a feeling of fear.

“Something’s hunting us. I don’t like it,” Mick said, scowling and surly. He was short but stout, built like a brick wall and just as tough. Dark hair in a buzz cut, black eyes looking out. Still gleaming with a little wolf. He and Shaun were some of the first to back my takeover of the pack. I couldn’t have a better pair looking out for me. I might have been the alpha, but I couldn’t do it without them helping me. I didn’t rule by force, but by friendships.

“Let’s get back,” I said, urgent now, hurrying. I wouldn’t let go of Ben’s hand. My mind was coming back to me, and the pieces of my body clicked back together after shifting. “I need to make some phone calls.”

The four of us went back to the cars.

“You think this is connected to the Tiamat cult?” Ben said. “That this is the attack we’ve been waiting for?”

“The burned door, the smell of fire here—what else could it be? It was waiting. All this time it was waiting for the full moon.”

“Maybe it’s a coincidence. Maybe it’s random,” Ben said. Even he didn’t sound convinced.

“That would be worse, don’t you think?” I said.

Because then I wouldn’t know where to start with trying to figure this out.

Chapter 4

First, I called Odysseus Grant.

We’d kept in frequent touch since the message appeared on New Moon’s door. He’d been keeping an eye on the Band of Tiamat on their home turf. He didn’t believe any of them had left Vegas, which meant the group of lycanthropes that had kidnapped me, and the vampire priestess that had tried to sacrifice me to her goddess, had sent someone—or something—else to leave that note at New Moon. And, I believed, whatever had come after us last night. I told him the latest news.

“The full moon was the trigger,” Grant said, after I told him what happened. “I can’t say that I’m surprised.”

“We should have expected it, is what you’re saying.” I paced the living room, holding my phone to my ear with one hand, scratching my greasy hair with the other. I was still feeling stiff and cranky, off-balance, Wolf’s shadows lurking in my mind. The bars of the cage she lived in most of the time hadn’t quite closed yet. I didn’t feel quite human, and I didn’t want to be talking on the phone. I hadn’t even showered yet. This seemed more important.

“Maybe. But there’s more to this. You said no one was hurt but that this thing was powerful. You could have been hurt.”

“It sure seemed like it. It came out of nowhere. We outran it.”

“Anything else you remember? Any detail at all?”

“Fire. The smell of burning coals. And a shape, something with hands that could fight. I don’t know. It’s not very clear. It’s all in wolf senses. Makes it hard to remember.”

“I understand. They’ve sent something after you, that much is obvious. I’ll learn what I can. If we can identify it, we can get rid of it.”

I already felt better. Right up until he said, “Whatever it is will strike again. Now that it’s exposed itself, it won’t go back to hiding.”

“What does it want? To scare us? Or to kill us?”

He paused before admitting, “I don’t know.”

This was my fault. I’d brought this thing here. “I don’t suppose you know of any cool charms that might work against something like this. Holy water, old Indian arrowheads, that sort of thing.”

“Can’t hurt to try,” he said, as close to encouraging as he ever got. “I’ll call you when I learn something.”

“Okay. Thanks. I’ll talk to you soon.” Sooner rather than later, I hoped.

That evening, I called to tell Rick about the new development. We agreed to meet at New Moon to discuss.

The first time Rick came to New Moon, I had to invite him in.