Soul Avenged (Sons of Wrath, #1) (32 page)

Situated
toward the back of the trailer park, Evan’s home sat an unkempt
mess. Small, probably one of the smaller trailers in the place, the
driveway stood empty. Trash littered the snow, along with fading
yellow pools of piss and piles of shit everywhere.

“I told you
dogs were filthy beasts,” Ayden said stepping aside the spots in
the snow.

“May you kill
me before I ever shit on someone’s lawn.”

Ayden laughed
and approached the door of the trailer. She peered in through the
window.

Vicious
barking responded, and the maws of two pitbulls flashed in front of
her on the other side of the pane, the dogs frantically jumping and
gnarling.

She stepped
down from the dilapidated stair. “You go.”

“Me? And have
my throat ripped out by two possibly abused, whack-job’s dogs?
You’re nuts.”

“Just do
it.”

Kane huffed
and moved past her, peeking inside the trailer. “Right. What the
hell does it matter? Maybe they’ll do the honors of tearing my
throat out for you.”

The barking
had ceased, but the dogs still poised with teeth bared, snarling as
if to warn Kane not to do anything stupid.

To his right,
the sun had begun to set, disappearing off in the distance.
Winter
. As if he’d needed to lose any more time, he had to
be bitten by a wolf in a season with the shortest days, leaving him
at the mercy of long, painful nights.

He glanced
back at Ayden, who ushered her hands at him. The woman annihilated
werewolves.
Why can’t she do this?

He slowly
twisted the knob. The growls of the dogs inside grew louder. Kane
gulped and cracked the door open.

The pitbulls
backed away slowly, the rumble still pulsing in their throats.

He stepped
inside and slid along the wall, his heart racing in his chest. In
fact, his entire body trembled.
Shit.

The bigger of
the two dogs stepped forward, saliva stringing from its mouth.

Kane’s body
stiffened. His fists balled at his sides.

Nice. Fucking.
Doggie.

He held his
breath and squeezed his eyes shut, waiting for the dog to
attack.

Soft fur
glided beneath his knuckles. Kane dared one eye open.

Both dogs sat
on their haunches, their lazy tongues off to the side, mouths
opened wide like a smile. Both tails wagged excitedly behind
them.

He opened his
other eye and expelled his breath.

What the
hell?

His fingers
uncurled, still shaking with adrenaline as he reached to pat the
dog on the head. It tipped forward as if to permit him the gesture.
Kane smiled. “Wow,” he whispered, gently petting the dog. It lifted
its head and licked his hand. “You guys are nothing but a couple of
softies. You know that?” He chuckled and knelt down, scratching
behind the dog’s ear.

The growls
re-erupted when Ayden appeared in the doorway.

One dog tore
away from Kane’s hands and lunged.

Something
inside of Kane snapped. He grabbed the dog mid-leap. A yelp filled
the air and the dog fell to the floor with a thud. The other went
for Ayden, but Kane reached it first and kicked it across the room.
It hit the wall on the other side of the trailer, falling with a
thump like the first.

Kane stood
panting, his hands still trembling as he examined them. Shock
spread like electricity through his body, beckoning his knees to
collapse.

Ayden smiled
and stepped inside. “Good.”

“What just
happened?”

“Instinct. I
had to see how far you are in your change. You haven’t yet
developed your pack mentality. Had you already turned, all three of
you would have been on me at once. I don’t need to go looking for a
fight with one lycan and have to fight two of you off at the same
time.”

He bent
forward, hands on his knees, sucking in a deep breath. “This was a
test?”

“Yes it was.
And you passed. Congratulations, you get to live a bit longer.”

The dogs lay
on the floor, their bodies rising and falling with breaths, but
judging by the contortion of their bodies, he’d broken some bones.
He knelt down, stroking one’s broad side, while it whined quietly.
“Sorry buddy,” he muttered.

***

Ayden stepped
over beer cans, food wrappers and other trash scattered about the
floor. A half-eaten burrito lay on the countertop. She pressed her
finger to it. It still held a little warmth and softness. “He’s not
been gone long. Let’s see if we can figure out where he went.”

Kane pointed
to the burrito. “Not even the dogs will eat the shit.”

Ayden scanned
the place, nose wrinkled in disgust.

Dog and wolf
hair mingled together, sprinkling the sole piece of furniture—a
dirty brown recliner, set in front of a small boxy television.
Wafts of urine, dog and mold burned her nostrils.

She made her
way to the bedroom, where the pungent stench of sex filled the air,
her lips turning down as she tugged on the first drawer next to the
bed. A variety of sex toys filled it—items that shouldn’t have even
existed—their function defying any intent of pleasure.

Kane peeked
over her shoulder. “What kind of sick bastard …”

“Wolves are
animals. Even in their human form, lycans seek out the violent sex
of their wolf counterpart. And at certain times of the year, they
have a voracious
appetite
for it.” She slammed the drawer
shut, rattling the change and dishes set atop of it.

“Mating
season?”

“Yes, a
natural instinct. Lucky for us, they become sterile with the
change. So there are no children born of them.” She peered around
at the slobbery scattered about. “Thank God.”

“So, they just
go on living their everyday lives as humans then change into
wolves?”

“Not exactly.”
Her lip curled as she peeled back the dirty sheet on the bed. “Most
abandon their everyday lives. They yearn to be with their pack
brothers and sisters. They really can’t cope with being a human
during the day because they long to be the wolf. Their families
become second.” She looked up at him. “Let’s just say the divorce
rate for lycans is at an all-time high.”

“What happens
to
their
families? Don’t they want to
eat
them, or
something?” Kane grimaced.

“Believe it or
not, no. It’s a strange phenomenon that can’t really be explained,
given their violent nature. They simply abandon them.”

Ayden
continued to rummage through the mess. She paused, placing her
hands on her hip. “What did you say this guy did for you?”

“At work? He
was a physical therapist. Why?”

“I can’t find
a damn thing on him. It’s like he doesn’t exist at all. The
downside of lycans, they don’t give a shit about anything in the
world. No bills, no hobbies, nothing. Now that he’s no longer
working for you, he could be anywhere.”

A click had
them both swinging round—toward the barrel of a shotgun peeking
through the door.

***

Kane froze, his
muscles locked in place.

Ayden stepped
cautiously forward and threw open the door.

An older woman
stood on the other side, with long gray, thinning hair, wearing a
dirty muumuu dress and slippers. Only a twilit sky hovered above,
but her features easily stood out to Kane and Ayden. “What chy’all
doin in this house?”

“Who are you,
security?” Kane asked.

She pointed
the gun in his direction, and he lifted his hands in the air. “I
asked ya a question and I don’t plan t’ ask agin.”

“Where’s
Evan?”

“I asked
you
the question, asshole.” The woman raised the gun toward
his face. “I ain’t sayin’ shit ‘til you tell me who y’are.”

Kane cleared
his throat. “Evan’s supervisor. At the hospital, where he works.
I’m Kane Walker.”

Her eyes
narrowed. “I heard ‘bout’chou. On TV. You gone missin’.”

“Yes, well,
now I’m found,” Kane said, keeping his tone casual. “And I’d like
to offer Evan his position. But it seems he’s not at home?”

“Nope. Boy
spends more time up at the gym than anywheres these days.”

“Gym?”

“Muscle Mania
Gym.” Reaching into a pocket of her dress, she pulled out a pack of
cigarettes and tucked the gun beneath her arm as she lit one up.
“Worthless little shit,” she said on an inhale. “That your fancy
bike out there?” Her question came out as a croak alongside the
smoke.

“Yes. It is.
Evan’s at the Gym right now?”

“Yep. You
really givin’ him a second chance?” The hot ash of her cigarette
flicked onto the concrete step. “He was all worked up sumthin’
fierce the other day. Throwin’ shit ‘round. Cursin’ up a storm.
Ain’t never seen him so mad. I guessed he was still pissed about
losin’ his job.”

“Well, I …
made a mistake. And to whom do I owe the
pleasure
?”

“Speak
English, boy. You a handsome one, but you gettin’ on my damn
nerves.” She took another drag of her cigarette.

“Uh. Who are
you to Evan?”

“His momma. I
live ‘cross the way, there. I own this house, too.”

Good God.
His momma?
“Well, thank you for your help.” Kane sighed. “We’ll
see about coming back later. When Evan returns.”

She leaned to
the side, peeking past the two of them. “D’you let them dogs out,
or something’? Why ain’t they barkin’?”

“Uh, yes.”
Kane glanced over at Ayden. “I’m sorry, they got loose when I
opened the door.”

“Good.” She
flicked her cigarette into the snow. “Goddamn things barkin’ all
day long. Nuff to drive you nuts.”

Could you
get any more nuts?
“Well, thanks again.”

She waved over
her shoulder and hobbled back toward her trailer, only slightly
more kempt than Evan’s.

“Momma?” Kane
rubbed his forehead. “How the hell did that boy manage to go
through school and earn a degree? Our physical therapists require
at least a Masters.”

Ayden glanced
around. “Wouldn’t you want to get the hell out of here if that was
your mom?”

“I guess.
Shame. He probably could have turned his life around had he not …
become one.”

She set her
hands on her hips. “You’re not gonna get all soft and sentimental
on me, are you? Let’s not forget he’s the one who signed your death
warrant.”

“Absolutely
not.” He cracked his knuckles. “Let’s go, uh, have you kick some
ass.”

~

Draven stared
at the flames rising from the rusted trashcan. He stretched out his
hands, mesmerized by the flicker between each of his fingers, as if
he could hold the flame in his palm.

Beside him,
Jacob poked at the ground with a stick. “I’m starving.”

“Shut up. No
whiny bullshit, hear me?” Draven’s sharp tone cut through the cold
winter air.

Jacob nodded.
“I just wish they’d hurry up.”

Draven had
sent a small group out to scavenge some food. Scavenging meant
casing stores, restaurants, peoples’ homes nearby—anywhere an Alexi
could slip in and out, unnoticed. They were masters of stealth and
no strangers to the shady parts of town. The streets of Detroit had
been used as their training grounds, where Wade had taught them how
to be hardened.

Two trashcans
lit the night. The building they’d taken over had been filled with
bums who’d taken up residence, likely because of its obscurity.
Draven had kicked out every one of them but their stench still
filled his nose.

He glanced
around at the Alexi soldiers, who sat talking, laughing, like their
cares had suddenly disappeared.
Ignorant. As if we aren’t being
hunted right now.
The thought angered him. Rather than lash
out, though, his mind drifted to Calla.

Sweet Calla.
Not anymore.

Why didn’t
we leave a long time ago?
Leave the Alexi and its shit life
behind.

Guilt gnawed
at his starving belly. He’d always known about Wade’s nightly
trysts with her. He’d watched him. The way he touched her face from
time to time, and how she’d cringe beneath his fingertips. She’d
sworn Wade never penetrated her. Still, it didn’t take away the
repulsion. She’d gotten so adamant about waiting for sex, as if she
couldn’t bear to think about it—and she’d ended up in the hands of
monsters. Monsters who’d have no conscience about taking her and
violating her. From what the nephilim, Ryke, had told him, they
often tormented their women with their insatiable appetites for
sex, until the females were left exhausted and weak.

Then the demon
pricks would take them again.

He swiped at
his eyes that’d begun to fill at the memory of what he’d said to
her. How he’d called her a whore and made her feel dirty for what
she had no choice but to do.

Sweet Calla.
Innocent Calla. Ruined.

“Those demons
will pay. Tonight they will pay.” The hunger for vengeance festered
in his words.

Jacob perked
up. “Tonight?”

“Yes. I’m
going to find Ryke. And he is going to tell me where to find them,
or I will put him so fucking far into the ground, the flames of
hell will burn his ass.”

Screams echoed
throughout the building.

Draven’s head
shot up.

Barrett, one
of the Alexi he’d sent for food, ran toward them, his clothes
bloodied and torn. Gaping wounds revealed a deep red, as if slashed
down to his very organs. He stumbled, throwing an anxious glance
behind him before continuing toward the group. When he finally
reached the burning trashcans, he fell to the ground, struggling to
breathe. Irreparable wounds covered his body. So many gashes. Even
with the antibody swimming in his veins, it would take hours to
heal them and his blood loss had already begun.

Draven knelt
beside Barrett and lifted his head. “What happened? Where are the
others?”