The Frenzy War (35 page)

Elias said nothing.

“No one's done anything to me,” Raphael said. “If you won't do what's necessary, then I will. These Torquemadans have to be found and killed. I came close tonight, and now I have their scent.”

“Leave them to the police.”

Raphael scrunched up his face in disgust. “Why?”

“Because the police can take care of the Torquemadans
without exposing us more than you already have.”

Raphael's entire body seemed to tighten. “What happens if the Torquemadans are taken alive and they stand trial? What's the risk of exposure to us then?”

“He's right,” Elias said. “At this point, it's best if we handle this situation ourselves.”

Gabriel offered Elias a tight smile. “Perhaps you should actually become a member of this pack before you challenge my leadership of it.”

Elias did not answer, but he did not lower his eyes, either.

“How will the police even locate the Torquemadans?” Raphael said.

“You track them down, then give me their location. I'll pass it on to Karol, who can feed it to someone we can trust.”

“A human, you mean? You're talking about violating one of our key laws.”

“A human we can
use,
then.”

Raphael gave him a hard look. “You're playing a dangerous game. I won't be a part of it.”

Gabriel felt cornered. “You'll do as I say. I'm the leader of the pack.”

Raphael shook his head. “I can't. I have to do what I think is right for the pack. I'm sorry. Me and my crew will take care of the Torquemadans.”

“If you disobey me, there will be repercussions.”

“So be it.”

Stung by the betrayal, Gabriel watched Raphael leave. Then he turned to Elias, who sat looking at him. “Go with him. He'll need your counsel.”

Elias rose. “I'll get my things.”

As the Greek werewolf climbed the stairs, Gabriel slid onto the sofa. With Melissa and the boys out of the country, Arick watching after them, and now Raphael dissenting, he felt utterly alone.

Awakening to the grinding sound of the metal door opening, Rhonda sat upright, raising both knees and covering her breasts with her arms. The stub of her right arm ached, and she instinctively moved her elbow joint.

My arm is growing back,
she thought. But would her hand grow back fully developed, with working fingers?

A figure entered the cell, someone she had not seen before: a short female with shoulder-length black hair. Her neck and face were wrapped in bandages, with openings for her eyes and mouth. She wore a black combat outfit and brandished a sword. If she hadn't felt in such danger, Rhonda might have laughed. For now, the woman aimed the tip of her sword at the floor.

“Stand up, you bitch,” she said in a hoarse voice.

Rhonda obeyed, straw falling from her flesh. She did not bother to cover her private parts, and the woman looked her over from head to toe. Rhonda saw Asian eyes between the bandages.

The woman raised the tip of her sword at Rhonda like an extension of her arm. With her free hand, she pointed at her face. “One of your kind did this to me. One of you killed Myles.”

“Good,” Rhonda said in an even tone. “You'll all be dead before this is over.”

“We're prepared to die. Are you?” The woman took a step to her left.

Rhonda took a slight step back. “Yes. Just not now.”

The woman continued moving to her left, and Rhonda stepped back, keeping her movements subtle.

Come a little closer,
she thought.

“What makes you think you have any say in the matter? You're our prisoner, nothing but a chained animal.”

“And what are you, except disfigured for life? I bet whoever tore your face off thought it tasted good going down.”

The woman drew her sword into swinging position. “Maybe I'll wear yours after I flay you alive.”

Inching away, Rhonda threw back her shoulders. “I think I'll eat the rest of you.”

The woman's upper lip curled, which caused her to wince. She seemed to take satisfaction in the pain. “Why aren't you afraid of me? You're in your human guise. I could kill you easily.”

“You must think so, or you wouldn't be here by yourself. Where's everyone else? Did they leave you alone?”

“I don't need them. I don't need anyone.”

“That's good, because with whatever's under those bandages, I don't see any intimacy in your future.”

Unleashing a defiant war cry, the woman swung the sword over her head.

Rhonda raised both hands to catch the blade, but the woman dropped to a crouch and swung the sword into her left
leg instead. Rhonda screamed and went down on her knee.

The woman wrenched the sword out of her thigh, producing a fountain of blood, and leapt away, drawing her sword once more.

Whimpering with tears in her eyes, Rhonda rocked back and forth in pain. She raised her head and looked at her attacker. “You're the bitch,” she said through growing teeth.

Within the space in the bandage, the woman's almond-shaped eyes widened, and Rhonda knew that her irises had expanded. She expected the woman to flee, but instead she charged at her, raising the sword above her head.

Rhonda had only an instant to decide her next move: jump out of harm's way or will the Change.

Change. Change.

Leaping forward, Rhonda transformed into a Wolf. The two females collided in midair, and Rhonda sank her canine fangs into the woman's collarbone. The woman cried out, dropping her sword, and Rhonda tasted hot blood. The Blade clattered on the floor a moment before the two figures crashed beside it. Rhonda tore flesh and meat from the right side of the woman's collarbone and gobbled it, smacking her lips.

The woman staggered to her feet and attempted to escape the space Rhonda's chains allowed her to reach, but Rhonda dove forward and snapped at the Achilles tendon of the woman's left leg, bringing her down. The woman screamed, and Rhonda shredded her other Achilles tendon with her claw. The woman tried to pull herself away using her only good limb, her left arm. Rhonda snared one of her wounded
ankles and dragged her closer. The woman continued to scream, her fingers clawing at the floor. Rhonda leapt onto her back, sank her teeth into her neck, and shredded her buttocks and the backs of her legs with her rear claws. The blood between her toes felt good.

Straddling the woman, Rhonda rolled her over so they faced each other. The woman reached up to claw at Rhonda's face, but Rhonda snapped her jaws down over her fingers. She felt her teeth chewing through flesh and bone, then felt the fingers floating in the blood pooling on her tongue. The woman pulled her arm back and gasped at what remained of her hand: a thumb and four stumps for fingers, each spewing blood.

Rhonda spat out the severed fingers in a torrent of blood. Then she seized the woman's head and unwrapped the bandage around it, like a child unwrapping a holiday present. The woman twisted her head away, as if trying to hide her features. Rhonda turned the head around, staring at the grisly mass that had once been a human face. One of her fellow Wolves had certainly done a number on the assassin. If her vocal cords had not Changed with the rest of her, she would have laughed to taunt the woman. Instead, she seized the woman by the throat and stood, raising her victim like a doll. She hurled her against a wall within her reach—

For Jason!

The woman winced and appeared to be fighting not to lose consciousness. Unable to stand with her Achilles tendons severed, she collapsed.

Roaring through blood-slicked teeth, Rhonda threw
the woman into the adjacent wall, her body making a wet smacking sound.

For my parents!

The woman sank to the floor. “Just kill me …”

Leaping before the woman, Rhonda dragged her upright once more. She sank the fingers of her front claw into the glistening red wound around the woman's collarbone, then jerked them down, tearing flesh and fabric all the way to the woman's stomach, producing a protracted and agonized scream from the woman.

For me, you bitch!

Then Rhonda became violent.

Mace entered the house, turned on the dining room lights, and tossed his keys on the table. He hung up his jacket, stepped out of his shoes, and walked into Patty's bedroom, where the toddler slept undisturbed. He stood at the crib for a moment, listening to his daughter's regular breathing. Hearing a footstep in the hall, he saw a shadow fall over them, and he turned to see Cheryl standing in the light, wearing a silver-blue nightgown.

“You should be asleep,” he said.

“Do you think I don't worry about you the way I used to when you go out? I liked it better when you were in the K-9 Unit. I saw you on the news just now. It's like Beirut. This whole city's going to be in a panic.”

Unable to discuss any details, Mace put his arms around her and held her tight.

Looking up, she kissed him, then led him to bed.

Michael made his way into the brick warehouse complex and unlocked the steel door next to the loading bay. Inside, he peeled off his cap, then his duster, and waited for Angelo and Valeria to arrive. Henri's death weighed on his shoulders like a giant rock.

And then there were four,
he thought.

His colleagues entered with shell-shocked expressions. Valeria's eyes appeared watery.

“Tudoro arrives tomorrow,” he said. “Hopefully with reinforcements. He'll have instructions for us. Until then, let's all get some sleep.”

Reaching into his duster, Angelo took out Henri's Blade of Salvation. “First, let's hang this in Henri's honor.”

Michael closed and locked the door, then followed Angelo and Valeria to the freight elevator and then to the dining room on the second floor. Angelo hung Henri's Blade on the wall under Myles's.

Two dead,
Michael thought.

Valeria sucked in her breath. “Oh … God.”

Moving beside her, Michael followed her gaze to the security monitor on the wall. On the left side of the screen, they saw the muscular and furry back and shoulders of Rhonda, sitting on the floor of her cell in wolf form, the straw on the floor behind her caked in blood.

Picking up a remote control from the counter, Michael aimed it at the monitor and panned the camera in the cell
left, framing the image so they saw the werewolf sitting cross-legged, her fur red with blood, chewing on a human leg that had been stripped of its skin. Organs and other body parts lay on the floor like scattered jigsaw puzzle pieces, with what appeared to be intestines piled in the corner.

Valeria covered her mouth. “Eun …”

The werewolf looked up at the camera, staring at them through the lens, her snout covered with blood.

“She knows we're watching her,” Angelo said. “She saw or heard the camera move.”

The werewolf rose, glowering at her captors. She glanced around the cell for something, then moved out of frame. A moment later, she returned with Eun's head dangling by its hair in her claw.