Silence of the Wolves (16 page)

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Authors: Hannah Pole

BOOK: Silence of the Wolves
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Carl dived in first, firing off round after round as he went. Leyth followed, smashing his way through the door. For a split second, he stopped and stared; there were loads of black-eyed tombs launching themselves at him. Each was at a different stage of decay, some scrawny and pale, some beefy, clearly recently turned.

They all moved in eerie synchronisation, ducking and weaving, thundering their way towards them. Carl fired several bullets at the three heading Leyth’s way, taking out their kneecaps and forcing them to the floor. Bastards didn’t even flinch, they just kept coming.

Leyth snapped into action, swinging his bolo high, decapitating the first pale-faced zombie as he went. He used the momentum to spin around and sink the blade into the skull of the next.

As he pulled the blade back round, something grabbed his arm. Not wanting to expose himself too much, Leyth grabbed at the smaller knives strapped to his chest, using his left hand to shift upwards, slicing through skin and hitting bone. The gash he made ran vertically up the tomb’s neck, the skin and muscle giving way, making the thing’s head roll forwards. Leyth buried the blade in the remaining skin at the back of the tomb’s neck, slicing sideways, then pushing it to the floor.

Inching forward, the two of them dodged and sliced, Carl taking out limbs, Leyth decapitating with his bolo, but they just kept coming.

The two djinn ghosted their way into the crowd, walking through the mess of bodies, becoming ethereal at various points, then reforming, becoming solid, slashing and stabbing the tombs as they came at them. One of them managed to land a blow to Leyth’s left shoulder, dislocating the joint. With a curse he shoved the limb inside his jacket, trying to keep it still as he fought with his right hand. Carl quickly ran out of bullets, diving to the side, pulling out another clip as he went. A tomb tracked his movement and hauled a beefy fist at him, but the male spun around just in time and shot the crap out of the zombie. Not before the tomb had landed a throwing knife in the guy’s leg though.

Jake had lost all of his weapons by the looks if it, but he wasn’t without a fighting edge. Leyth felt himself go pale as he watched the djinn ghost himself into an ethereal state, shoving a hand inside the tomb’s throat and then solidifying with his hand inside the thing’s neck, ripping its decaying body apart from the inside out. Goddamn, that male might be a drama queen, but he was absolutely ruthless when he needed to be.

Ten dead tombs later, they were still fighting their way through bodies, struggling to keep their footing on the concrete floor that was slick with blood. And still more came. Where the hell were they coming from?

‘You made a mistake coming here,’ the tombs said in unison.

It was creepy, but Leyth couldn’t help feeling that they might be right. The two of them were badly injured, and their strength was running low.

A large crash sounded out from behind them.

‘Carl? Leyth?’ Sapphire’s voice was like an answer to his prayers.

‘Down. Here,’ Carl grunted out between shots.

Something big thundered its way down the steel steps and blasted its way into the room. The tombs glanced over, pausing long enough for Leyth and Carl to catch their breath.

The minotaur was huge. He was partially shifted; his legs still wore combats, but his chest was bare and covered in a dusting of wiry brown fur. His huge muscles rippled as he tensed, ready for combat.

His shoulders were so wide he’d had to come through the door sideways to fit, and those biceps were easily the width of Leyth’s entire torso. The male’s head was gnarled, still wearing some human features, but the beast had broken through; the long nose of the bull taking place of the guy’s jaw. His neck was as wide as Leyth’s thighs, and from his face a deadly set of jaws protruded. His head held the same brown and wiry hair, coving most of his skin, and from the top of his head two deadly jagged horns protruded.

‘Minotaur,’ the tombs said. ‘Impressive.’

One of them launched a throwing knife at the bull; it landed in his shoulder. He didn’t flinch, just gripped the metal between two huge fingers and slid it out. The knife looked more like a splinter in comparison to those hands.

All at once, the tombs shifted, each of them reaching for whatever weapons they had left. The mino let rip a huge roar and leant down, horns at the ready. Without a moment’s hesitation, the thing ripped forward, batting zombies out of the way like they weighed nothing.

Tombs went flying along with body parts, blood spraying everywhere. Anything that got in the way of those deadly horns, as the beast attacked, was likely to be the most unfortunate mess of limbs by the end of it.

Despite his size, the mino disappeared beneath the hordes of tombs. Where the hell were they coming from? Sapphire and the rest of the team piled through the door, along with another minotaur, who charged into the thick of the fight to help his kin.

Saph pulled out her own 9 millimetre, and started firing off rounds into the swarming mass of half-dead tombs, taking out limbs as she went. A heartbeat later, a shifter Leyth didn’t know joined her, grabbing his own handgun and getting straight down to business.

Between the djinn and the minotaurs’ ruthless attack, the space was clear in a matter of minutes. The seemingly endless stream of tuhrned thinned out, and the few remaining scattered.

‘That was a bit gnarly,’ Jake muttered, climbing over a headless torso and brushing off his clothes, his featureless face shifting as he spoke, becoming more human, and sprouting blonde hair.

‘Christ, I’ve got blood on my jeans!’ the other snapped, scrubbing a fist through his now brown waves.

‘Why the hell did you wear designer clothes to a Circle base?’

‘I was in a rush. Don’t get all bitchy with me.’ Leyth snorted at the two males. He scanned the area; the two minotaurs were patting each other down, checking for wounds and thumping each other on the back.

‘Give me a hand,’ one of them grunted, bending down so that the other could pluck a tomb’s boot, with the severed foot still inside, from his horn.

There were maybe thirty or forty dead tombs here. Leyth looked around the basement room. It was vast, and the concrete floor was now red with blood. There were tables and chairs strewn about and what looked like a small kitchenette, but not much else.

On the far side, there was a steel door that had been propped open. Leyth and Carl walked over to it, motioning to the rest of them to be quiet. Listening intently, the silence stretched out between them. It seemed they’d got them all. The few that had scattered were those who’d gotten past them and run up the stairs to the body of the building. They would likely be halfway to another base by now.

Keeping his bolo ahead of him, Leyth slid his body into the dingy corridor. Steel doors lined the space either side of him, and at the end was a much larger door, made of wood. Wrapping the darkness around himself, he motioned to Carl and the other shifters to stay back with the minos, and waved the two djinn forward. Getting the picture, they ghosted themselves, becoming ethereal once more. The three of them shuffled down the dark hallway; Jake wafting through door after door, cracking them open once he’d made sure there was nothing inside. Each room was filled with steel bunk beds that reeked of death and little else. The beds themselves were minimal, though the plain sheets were ruffled; each of them had been slept in recently. It was like a hotel for the newly tuhrned. There were a few items; iPods, phones, diaries. These were all collected and handed to the shifters, who bagged and tagged them. The last room on the left was an assortment of toilets and showers, though lord only knew why they needed them. Tombs stank to high heavens; you couldn’t wash that stench off!

Finally they came to the wooden door at the end. It was locked, of course. All of them readied their weapons; the two minotaurs gearing themselves up to charge as Jake slid his spectral form through the door. There was a moment of silence before he came back out. ‘Empty, as far as I can tell, but it’s a frigging maze of hallways.’

The two minotaurs rolled their eyes at the comment. Leyth motioned one of the minos forward, who promptly thundered a fist through the wood, sending his huge body smashing through it afterward. The door splintered and gave way as easily as paper.

One by one, they ducked through the space, straining their ears as they listened in silence. If there were any tombs left, they would have heard that. In the distance, there was a slow, shuffling sound.

Scraping, claws on concrete.

Silently, they moved forward, Leyth and the djinn at the front, the shifters and the minotaurs hanging back but keeping in sight. The corridor was cold, the walls and floor growing steadily slicker, damp air slapping them in the face as they silently piled forward. They were in the runways to the sewer, he was sure of it. These corridors would eventually give way to the network of tunnels that made up the sewer system that led out to sea.

As they rounded the next corner, Leyth paused. The shuffling had stopped, and in its place was harsh panting. Whatever it was knew they were there. Leyth broke into a jog, bolo at the ready. Carl caught up with him, training the gun on where they were headed. They rounded the corner and he fell instantly into a defensive crouch, bringing the knife up in front of him, ready.

There was a deafening snarl as the wolf squared up against them. It was crouched over a small bundle of material in a protective stance, teeth bared, a loud rumble rippling out of its chest. As the wolf clocked him, it eased up a little, cocking its head to the left. Its beautiful black fur gave way to red that shone in the dim lighting of the corridor;

Leyth had seen that colour red before, it was—

He inhaled deeply, sorting through the coppery scent of blood riding his clothes, the putrid stench of decay that rode the air until—

‘Tam… Tamriel?’ he whispered.

The wolf barked, and stood a little straighter.

She was clearly hurt; she doubled over in pain with the movement, staggering on the spot slightly.

Leyth knew it was her, it had to be; she must have gone through the change.

He broke into a run, closing the distance between them as fast as he could. He caught her soft, furry form just as she collapsed; it was then he noticed the throwing knife sticking out of her side, blood pulsing out of the wound slow but steady.

‘I need a med kit,’ he barked, as his team stalked over to help.

Sapphire was there in seconds, removing the knife and inspecting the gash. She pressed gauze against it and carefully wrapped a bandage around Tamriel’s waist to hold it in place.

‘We’re gonna need to get her to the clinic. That’s really deep.’

Leyth tried to heft Tamriel up into his arms, but she staggered away, shaking free.

She plodded over to the mattress and nosed the bundle, looking at them.

Huffing, she walked back, picked her trousers up with her teeth and weakly tugged at them.

Leyth noticed that the trousers were wrapped around the bottom of the mattress the bundle was placed on.

‘Did you drag this up here?’ Wolf Tamriel huffed and nodded, walking back to nose the bundle once more.

Leyth pulled the material aside. Blonde waves fell out from beneath and a pale hand fell loose, brushing his skin and making him jump.

It was Alison.

Chapter Eleven

After what felt like hours, Leyth and Tamriel sat watching as the team started wrapping up. The sun had long gone and they were well into the wee hours of the morning.

Julian had arrived with a medical team and taken Alison away to the clinic. Doc had repositioned Leyth’s shoulder and checked Tam over. He’d cleaned the wound and decided she would be fine, giving her strict orders to shift back to human form and come and see him as soon as they got to the base for more dressing.

They had stayed, watching the two minotaurs carry the dead into a van to be shipped off and burnt. The building was swept through and cleaned, leaving no trace that anything had gone down here.

Leyth had been told that Tamriel had dragged Alison for well over two miles. No wonder she was so exhausted. They had found another two tombs that were missing their throats and, going by the way Tamriel gagged when they came out, Leyth got the feeling that might have been her battle.

Damn, this female was hardcore.

Tam laid her head on his lap, licking his palm as he glanced down. She nudged at his arm, trying to tell him something, huffing and looking apologetic.

‘No need to be sorry,’ he muttered, running his hand through her soft fur.

She jumped off the back of the van and tugged at his leg.

Confused, he stood up and followed her to where the group of people were standing. The shifter that had come in with Sapphire walked out of the building, carefully carrying the body of a dead wolf in his arms.

Leyth stopped dead in his tracks, his stomach curling into a tight ball of dread as he inched forward.

The black and grey wolf was one of his old pack, his birth pack.

Running a hand over her fur, he gently lifted the wolf’s head.

‘Jessica,’ he whispered, fighting back tears.

‘You knew her?’ the shifter said, sympathy riding his tones.

‘Yeah,’ Leyth grunted. ‘She was… she was pack-kin.’

Tamriel slowly padded her way back to the car with Leyth, through the streets she knew so well.

Strange. When she’d been in those cold brick hallways, fighting for her life, she’d had no idea where she was. It was weird to think that she was little more than a few miles away from her flat the entire time. She was still in wolf form, and though the night held a bitter edge, the wind brushing past her fur did little to chill her. The cold winds were actually a relief, cooling her bloody, heated skin, making her feel more normal. Well, as normal as you could feel when you’re walking on padded paws rather than feet.

The night sky looked different through her wolf’s eyes; it seemed to shimmer with an almost iridescent light. It was the moon, she realised; the moon called to her with its magnificent light, making her want to sit back on her heels and simply howl.

She settled, however, for just walking underneath its glow, marvelling at how the street seemed to shine under its gaze allowing her to see even the tiniest of things in the dark night.

Leyth’s scent washed over her, making her feel safe and warm. Christ, had she been glad when he turned up. He’d picked her up and carried her out of that hell hole, and once they’d gotten outside, he’d spent the time stroking her fur and saying very little.

All she’d wanted to do was curl up next to him and let the warmth and comfort his presence provided engulf her, but she hadn’t dared to. Whatever these stupid feelings were, they couldn’t be shown. This man was so far out of her league, she didn’t stand a chance.

Glancing at the man in question, she found Leyth was silent as he had been all night, his eyes trained on the walkway ahead of them. Every movement sent jolts of pain slicing through her, every step jarring her bones. She may have the nicely padded feet of the wolf, but her pads were still cut and bleeding, though they were healing quickly.

After she’d fought the last two tombs, she’d passed the hell out. For how long? She had no idea, all she knew was that she’d woken up with a knife in her side, body screaming in pain.

She’d struggled to pull the mattress much further, but hadn’t given up on the girl. Getting her to safety had been her priority.

Pushing the memories to the back of her mind to be revisited later, she focused on walking forward. Her paws were sore from the rough stone, and she was leaving bloody paw prints on the Tarmac with every step. Her bones felt like they were breaking with every movement, but she put all the energy she had left into trying not to limp.

Leyth had enough on his plate already without having to worry about her. He probably still hated her from the way she left things.

Honestly, he was probably only taking her back to the base with him because he felt like he had to. God, when he showed up, he’d come just at the right time; she’d been on the verge of giving up.

She tripped on a broken slab of pavement and couldn’t help the whimper that escaped her lips as she stumbled forward. Leyth’s eyes snapped to her, his cold expression softening, quickly becoming an expression of concern.

‘Are you OK? I’m such an arse. You must be so sore!’ Tamriel swiftly shook her head and tried to walk again, but her bad leg gave out and she hit the pavement once more. Cursing herself for being so weak, she struggled upright.

‘You are the most determined female I’ve ever met.’ Leyth chuckled, bending down and scooping her into his arms. He cradled her gently to his chest as he strode forward, and she let herself be carried, loving the feel of his strong arms around her.

Tucking her head under his chin, she closed her eyes and relaxed into him. This would probably be the only time she would have an excuse to be this close to him. She wanted to remember exactly how he smelt, how his skin felt against her. God she wished she could shift, wished like hell she could be human, could wrap her arms around his neck and feel his skin against hers.

But she just didn’t have the energy. She would also be naked and cold, no. Wolf was better for now.

All too soon, they reached his car, the beaten-up 4X4 looming in the shadows. There was a click as he unlocked the door and awkwardly yanked the passenger side door open, holding her up with one arm as he did. He gently placed her on the seat and strapped her in, easing her front paws over the seatbelt. She felt so stupid, just sat there like an arrogant child as he manoeuvred the thing around her.

He walked around the front of the motor and climbed in the driver’s side, clicking the key in the ignition and switching the thing on.

He glanced at her, his arm twitching as if he wanted to reach out.

‘Your wolf is beautiful,’ he whispered, giving in to his body and stretching a hand out to stroke her fur. She couldn’t help huffing and shying away as he stroked her.

No one ever thought she was beautiful; no one treated her as he did. She was a little disappointed that he thought her wolf was beautiful and not her own form, but hell, she’d take anything she could get from this man.

Snapping back to reality, Leyth tore out of the bay they were parked in. Onto the main road, then he roared out of the town towards the countryside.

Twenty minutes later, the fields surrounding them gave way to woodland vast and dark, she had the sense they were nearly there as he began to visibly relax, each tense muscle loosening.

Tamriel looked around her, gaping as she took in her surroundings, then they turned sharply off the road and ran into the thick of the woodland, coming to a halt at a pair of huge rusty metal gates, hanging at awkward angles.

Where were they? ‘Home, sweet home,’ Leyth muttered as he clicked a button on his keys.

The rusty old gates started to open and Tam braced herself for the inevitable squealing that came with worn metal, but was instead met with an eerie silence as the two barred sides of the gated entrance moved with unnatural grace. Leyth hit the gas again, jolting the battered car forward.

The moonlight faded as they moved under the heavy canopy of the trees and the air turned thick as mist surrounded them. Leyth didn’t flinch, didn’t flick his headlights to full beam or seem remotely bothered by the fact that darkness was closing in fast, he just kept on driving, bumping down the thin road that led to god only knew where. The blackness of the woods surrounded them to the point where Tamriel could no longer see her paw in front of her face.

Unnatural darkness, she thought. Weird as it was, she found it even stranger that she felt nothing but comfortable with Leyth, a male she’d only known for a matter of days.

Yet here they were, in the middle of the woods, in the dark, and Tam felt completely at ease, like this was where she was supposed to be.

Finally, the car pulled up to a second set of gates, though it took a while for Tam to realise what they were. They had been completely covered in ivy, the green vine curling its way around the metal bars of the gates to the point where barely any of it was visible. Leyth flashed her a toothy grin, clearly loving whatever he could see riding her features.

She couldn’t hide her awe as the gates opened before them, revealing a wide, gravelled driveway that stood at the foot of a mansion.

The large stone walls seemed to stretch on forever, covered, like the gate, in ivy from top to bottom. The green of the ivy and the dark stone beneath it seemed to blend into the trees surrounding it, illuminated by streaming moonlight, beaming through gaps in the woodland canopy. It was truly beautiful.

Lost for words, she could only gape at Leyth, who parked the car and softly scrubbed a hand through her fur, before getting out and walking around to her side. He opened the door and slid his arm around her, unclipping her seatbelt.

Carefully he lifted her out of the car, and placed her gently on the ground.

‘Come on then,’ he grunted, walking slowly, keeping to her pace. She knew he was respecting her pride as they picked their way on the gravel towards the doors.

He clearly knew she would want to walk into the place on her own four paws, rather than be carried in like a pathetic weakling.

Gingerly pawing her way up the steps to the building, she came to stand awkwardly behind Leyth who had his head stuck in the lens of a small camera to the side of the door. There was a quiet click and one of the large doors abruptly swung open. Leyth strolled in like he owned the place as Tamriel ducked in behind him.

‘Hey, glad you two got back OK!’ came a booming voice from inside.

Tam caught her breath as she took in the grand staircase before her; painted in green and gold, it stretched up for miles, finally revealing a large balcony that surrounded the entrance hall she was stood in. There were large doorways on either side of the staircase that went into other rooms. From what she could see, the walls were similar in colour; all deep greens and golds, with a rolling tiled floor that depicted woodlands stretching out as far as the eye could see. Looking up to the ceiling, there were beautiful paintings of hardened, muscled men and beautiful, curvaceous women in various positions looking up towards a beautiful, fully rounded moon, their hands placed on the heads of their wolf companions as they sat close to their feet, heads looking up towards their master.

‘Hey, yeah! Is Doc in the clinic?’ Leyth asked.

‘Yeah, I’ll walk you through, but—’ The huge, muscled man crouched down in front of her.

‘Tamriel?’ She huffed and nodded. His long blonde braid swung over his shoulder as he bowed deeply to her.

She had no idea who this man was, but she got the idea he was king around here. And bowing clearly wasn’t something he did often.

‘Thank you.’ He lifted his head, bright-blue eyes locking onto hers. ‘For saving my kin, my sister. Thank you. I’m Julian.’

She bowed her own head out of respect.

The blonde girl. He must have meant her.

‘Come, let’s take you to Doc.’ He strode forward, clapping Leyth on the back. ‘I heard about Jessica. I’m so sorry. We’ll sort out a proper burial. Do you want to do it on our land?’

‘Pack-land,’ Leyth grunted, slowing the two of them down subtly so she could keep up.

As she trotted through the vast mansion, the grand foyer gave way to plain white walls. At the end of the hallway, they came to several medical rooms, the door to all but one open.

‘Doc,’ Julian thundered, poking his head through the closed door.

‘Ah! Tamriel! Our heroine returns!’ Doc ducked out of the room and gently closed the door behind him. He was a gorgeous man. She recognised him from her visit to the clinic with Leyth, after she had first found out about her heritage. His dark skin shone under the cool lights of the clinic.

When he’d checked her out at the scene, she’d been nearly unconscious; so tired and in pain she hadn’t really noticed who was looking her over. Now she’d come to her senses and woken up a bit, she realised exactly who he was.

‘Alison is stable, but she’s been starved and she is currently in a coma. Hopefully, she will wake up soon, but only time will tell. We’ll need people ready with food and water for when she does, and it would be good if you were there. She’s going to need to see a friendly face.’

Leyth gently lifted Tam off the floor and onto the bed. ‘How are you feeling?’

She huffed, wishing like hell that she could speak properly.

Leyth stroked her fur gently. ‘Do you think you can try and shift?’

Tam hesitated, then slowly nodded her head as he walked over and locked the door, pulling the curtain down over the glass pane.

‘Do you want me to leave?’ he whispered, stroking the length of her.

She quickly shook her head. She did
not
want to be alone right now.

‘Come on, Tamriel, try and shift, I want to see that beautiful face of yours.’

She closed her eyes, she’d thought of her wolf when she’d shifted before, so how was she supposed to get rid of it? She pushed the thoughts of the beautiful animal away, tried to evict the creature from her mind, her body and her soul.

The wolf came snarling to the surface, slashing at her mind, staying put.

A headache spiked, making her wince.

‘Shhh.’ Leyth stroked her fur gently. ‘I’m so sorry I didn’t tell you what to expect, how to change. I should have come to you sooner. This is all my fault.’ She licked his palm, trying to tell him what was in her heart.

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