Howling Legion (Skinners, Book 2) (31 page)

Cole snatched the bag from her and swung his hand back as if he didn’t only want to show the metal chips to Daniels, but force him to eat them.
“This
is what you consider useful?”

“Also…maybe…I got bored.”

After handing the bag to Paige, Cole nodded and gripped the steering wheel. “That’s it. I don’t care whose life he saved. Baldy dies tonight.”

For the first time since they’d left the hotel, Cole saw a glimpse of the Paige he truly knew. She tucked the bag into a pocket and sighed. “If you boys keep fighting, I won’t take you to see the big scary animals.”

“That’s another thing,” Cole grunted. “How are we supposed to find those things anyway?”

“Something tells me finding them won’t exactly be the hard part.”

Liam covered the first few miles in a loping run. Every time a front paw touched down, the corner of his mouth curled into a pained grimace. His chest remained low while his thick rear legs pushed him forward and his front paws swatted at the ground to keep him going. Whenever he collected enough strength, he launched into a jump that allowed him to move at twice the speed.

By the time he reached Kansas City, his wound had stopped bleeding. Scampering into an alley, he shifted into human form just long enough for his body to shed most of its wounds the way it would expel any other waste. The broken tooth remained wedged between his ribs, even after changing back into his four-legged frame. The pain that accompanied every wheezing breath wasn’t enough to mar the night ahead.

The moon hanging above him was slightly more than halfway full, a natural beacon drawing his eye straight through the garish glow of electric illumination surrounding the city. He ran from the alley and tore straight down the middle of a street, snapping at cars as they honked and swerved out of his way. Henry would have enjoyed himself on this night, but that one was nowhere to be found. The other Full Blood’s trail seemed to lead everywhere at once. Liam hadn’t smelled anything like the traces that mingled with Henry’s scent and he wasn’t going to waste time trying to figure them out now.

Randolph’s scent was stronger, which meant his old friend was nearby. Bounding off the street to land on the hood of a pickup truck, Liam barked gleefully as the truck’s windshield shattered and its driver fought to regain control before swerving into a streetlight. If Randolph was watching, Liam knew he would be throwing a fit.

Running from the street to the sidewalk, he sped up when he caught sight of a group of humans gathered around the front of a building that thumped with an obnoxious, pounding rhythm. When he clambered over a cluster of cars, he made sure to scrape his claws against the painted metal and shatter as much glass as possible along the way. All those people looked at him. Some screamed. Some fled. Some poked at their little phones and called for help. Some even pointed their devices at him and took his picture.

So many years of so-called progress, and the humans could only come up with more machines to play with. Liam scattered them like pheasants being flushed from a bush. He nipped at some of their legs, ripping a few tendons and sending weaker members of the herd to the pavement. Unfortunately, he couldn’t indulge in any more than that. He ran down the next street that caught his eye and trampled anything or anyone in his path. Sometimes he chose a new path just so he could trample some more.

Running free through a place that his kind had avoided for so long was akin to walking straight up to someone else’s woman, lifting her skirts, and bending her over the closest piece of furniture. It didn’t matter what that woman looked like, if she was kind, sweet, or even tolerable. She, like this city, was not to be touched. Liam spread his paws out wide, touching the city as much as possible with every single step. He wanted to get to higher ground. There were plenty of fire escapes to climb and ledges to grip, but those were the proper ways. For he and every shapeshifter within the sound of his voice, this was not a night for propriety.

The building he chose was in a part of the city all but deserted after business hours. Weathered stone cracked beneath his claws and thick glass cracked too as he scraped and tore at the side of the structure to create his own foot-
holds. While he climbed, Liam shifted into his upright form. His limbs stretched out and the mass that clumped around his chest and shoulders flowed down to more evenly cover his growing torso. Every time he passed a window, his reflection was different. He completed his change a quarter of the way up, so he was able to cover more distance with higher jumps.

Once he was atop the building, Liam paced between the ventilation and air-conditioning units, savoring the cool touch of night air upon his face. He turned toward the ledge and raced to the brink of a long drop to the pavement, but stopped himself by digging his claws into the roof. Gripping the ledge with both hands, he gazed down upon the city. His tongue lolled out the side of his mouth as he watched the growing number of flashing lights and cars racing below like fireflies trapped beneath a glass table.

He could smell the Skinners drawing closer.

Some of the Half Breeds were strong enough to poke their noses from their dens, but most were probably content to sleep. Randolph might have found some of the wretches, but he couldn’t have found them all.

Liam’s heartbeat quickened and his breath poured from his mouth like steam from an engine. Leveling his gaze to a point in the distance had something of a calming effect. Things were clearer when he only looked straight ahead. The Full Blood closed his eyes, pulled in one more breath, and sifted through the thousands of scents every passing breeze carried upon its wide back.

There were dozens of reasons to hate humans and plenty of lessons his own kind needed to be taught. At that moment, however, Liam felt no need to justify his actions other than it was a hell of a night for a siege.

He held on to the breath he’d taken, raised his nose to the heavens and howled.

Where any other sound would have died off or been carried away, this one continued on. Where any other creature would have run out of breath, Liam pushed his howl out further and further until it reached every last ear for which it was intended.

The howl was a great and terrible thing.

In comparison, the other howls that rose up in response to it were frayed and ragged. When the creatures answering the Full Blood’s call could howl no more, they scampered from their dens in savage, barking stampedes.

Liam allowed his voice to taper off so he could listen to the Half Breeds’ desperate replies. They were hungry, eager, and still in pain from their first transformation.

They were perfect.

Now that the wretches had been coaxed from their pits, the dead would pile up and the wounded would replenish the Half Breeds that had fallen, until every street became a butcher’s killing floor. Perhaps some of them would run to another town or tear through another city. Skinners would fall until the most powerful among them would finally be flushed out of hiding.

Liam could barely contain himself.

The blood in Cole’s arms hadn’t stopped burning since Liam left the hotel. It took less than an hour to reach downtown Kansas City, where his early warning pains flared up all over again. Looking over to Paige, he asked, “Do you feel that?”

They’d stopped along a quiet street with an all-night diner on the corner. Paige had allowed Daniels to examine her arm during most of the drive, but pulled away from him now. “Yep,” she replied. “Daniels, you stay put. Have some coffee or something and we’ll call you when we’re ready to get you.”

“Mind if I track down something a bit more to my tastes?” the Nymar asked as he reflexively curled his lips back to show the set of feeding fangs that drooped lazily from his gums.

“You know the rules.”

“Sure I do,” Daniels assured her. “The maid at the hotel even came back a few times while you were gone because she—”

“Don’t need the details,” Paige cut in. “Just get what you need and don’t be messy about it. If you don’t hear back from us, find your way back to Chicago and call that number I gave you to tell them we’re gone.”

“Miss Sunshine means we’ll pick you up when we’re through cleanin’ up this town,” Cole said in a drawl that would have offended any true cowboy. “I’ll leave you with something you can use in case you get in trouble. That shotgun’s still in the trunk, right, Paige?”

She nodded, told him to hurry, and got out so she could circle around to take her seat behind the steering wheel.

Once Cole had dragged Daniels around to the back of the car and opened the trunk, he asked, “Is Paige really all right?”

“That ink didn’t work like she thought it would, but I
told
her we needed more tests. It’s not my fault!”

“I just wanna know if she’s all right.”

Although Daniels was clearly rattled, he forced himself to reply, “She’s in pain, but seems to be handling it. The muscles in that arm are thicker, but appear to be hardening as well. While the shapeshifting properties are present, the ink has also bonded the metallic elements to her living tissue more than I thought it would.”

“So…her arm’s turning into metal?”

“No, nothing so dramatic. I need to test some tissue samples, but I know she’s losing feeling in that arm and is having trouble moving it. There may be other effects, but I can’t just guess as to what they may be.”

Having seen Paige’s trouble in getting her weapon to change shape, Cole already knew of one more effect. That didn’t need to be spread around, though. “Is she in any immediate danger?”

“She didn’t use that much ink, and while the effects don’t seem to be going away, they’re not spreading either.”

“I don’t have a lot of time here,” Cole pressed. “She won’t tell me anything until this is over except that she’s fine. Is she or isn’t she?”

“There could be prolonged, possibly permanent damage to those muscle groups, but there really isn’t anything I can do for her at the moment.”

“And if she was poisoned, she would have died already,” Cole said. “Right?”

Daniels winced and started to shrug. “Not…necessarily.”

Slamming the trunk shut, Cole walked around the back of the car toward the passenger side. “Thanks. Big help. Go get somebody to drink.”

“Hey! What about my shotgun? I still need to protect myself, you know.”

“You think I’m really giving you my shotgun? Are you nuts? You’re a vampire. If something comes close, flash them the fangs.”

Daniels had a few choice words for that, but Cole didn’t listen. The Nymar was still gesturing after Cole was in the car and being driven away.

“What’s that about?” she asked.

Cole looked in the side mirror and waved at Daniels. “Looks like he’s wishing us luck. He wouldn’t take the shotgun. Real noble guy.”

“Sure. Whatever.” She drove slowly for a few seconds, which was all the time she needed to spot the cop cars racing down an adjacent street.

Cole watched carefully as she gripped the wheel in her left hand and allowed her right to lie across her lap. She seemed able to move a little better than a few minutes ago, but continued to flex her fingers as if they’d been asleep. The tattooed lines had faded to a few traces, and the muscles beneath the incisions were losing the gray hue they’d had earlier that night. “So,” he said, “was all that worth losing the Blood Blade?”

Paige ground her teeth and snarled, “Ask me later.”

“What’s the plan now? Just follow the cops?”

She sucked in a breath and seemed ready to clam up for good. When she exhaled, it was more of a reluctant sigh. Judging by the look on her face, the pain she felt cut deeper than any set of claws. “We took a gamble on a lot of things lately. I should have known better about this one.”

“We were caught by surprise, Paige. There’s no shame in admitting it. We’re doing all we can. It’s not like there are policies for werewolves tearing through an entire city.” He paused and then asked, “Skinners
don’t
have a policy for this, do they?”

“No,” she said with a tired laugh. “But if we get ripped
apart on some video that winds up on the Internet, at least other Skinners will know what not to do.”

Cole shifted in his seat and looked out his window. The squat buildings on the outer edges of the city had given way to the thicker and taller ones of the downtown area. Depending on where he looked at any given moment, Kansas City either seemed alive and kicking or dead and buried. Streetlights were on, but most businesses were closed. Offices were empty, while bars and clubs were still attracting crowds. Cops swarmed in packs, leaving empty pavement in their wake. People gathered on some corners, leaving others alone. Sometimes there was a giant rat running alongside the car and sometimes there wasn’t.

“Wait, whoa!” he yelped as he grabbed onto the door frame with both hands.

“What is it?”

Of course, now that he was looking for it, the creature he’d spotted wasn’t there. “I saw something, but I’m not sure what.” Cole kept his eyes on the pavement flowing past his side of the car until the creature came into view again. Its body might have had the mass of a Half Breed, but was stretched out to something much longer and lankier. It ran like a ferret, with its body rippling from front to back in a constant wave. When it looked up at his passenger-side window, the creature knocked the side of its head against the door to make a sound that he realized he’d been hearing in the background for the last few blocks.

“Pull over, Paige.” As soon as those words were out of his mouth, Cole quickly added, “But not to the right!”

“I’m not pulling over. We’re too close and I don’t wanna lose sight of these cops.”

The burning under Cole’s skin grew with every second. Rather than argue with her, he rolled his window down and stuck his head out. The creature outside kept up with the car as if it had barely found its stride. Its beak was even with the front tire of the Cav, and its thick, segmented tail stuck out straight behind its body to a spot well past the rear bumper. The last time Cole had seen the face that now looked up at him, it was poking halfway out from a dirt wall.

“What took you guys so long?” Ben asked. When he glanced back and forth between Cole and the road ahead of him, flaps on either side of the Mongrel’s neck became visible. Every breath he took caused the flaps to open and shut like a set of gills.

“You guys beat us here?” Cole asked.

“By quite a while, unless you’ve been laying low!”

“Who the hell are you talking to?” Paige asked.

“One of the diggers from MEG’s backyard.” It wasn’t exactly an accurate description, but was enough to get his point across.

Paige nodded and asked, “Is he alone?”

“I hope not.” Leaning outside, Cole asked, “You bring anyone else with you?”

Ben spoke as if he was walking briskly next to Cole instead of keeping pace with a speeding car. “We’re all here. Kayla wanted to hang back and make sure you two were going to get your hands dirty. Seeing you charge into the thick of it like this is enough for me.”