I Kissed a Dog (34 page)

Chapter
46
28

“Chloe, is that you?” a muffled voice put a rapid halt to my vengeful thinking.

I turned expecting to see one of my former roommates behind me. “Deb? Connie?” I questioned
the silent room, listening intently. It was impossible to gauge where the voice had
originated.

Besides my ragged breathing, the other perceptible sound came from just outside the
door.

I remembered with horror the first time I’d seen the entrance to my room. The deep
gouges had supplied the visual evidence of some sadistic monster’s attempts to tear
through the door.

What I heard right now sounded like something making forceful strokes — like razor-sharp
claws scraping the door’s full length.

The image sent a spike of terror through my chest. Being mauled to death when freedom
had been so close was unacceptable.

Using my mind magic, I thrust my mental feelers out and into the formidable enemy’s
thoughts now ripping at the door, like a dog digging for its long lost bone.

Kill. Kill. Kill. Kill Ki …

Halfway through the fifth
kill
I pulled out. Whatever was pawing so maniacally had a mental makeup unlike any I’d
ever explored.

Its psyche was blacker than black, obsidian — a pool of swirling darkness with the
audible word — kill — rising from its murky depths with increasing volume and intensity.

The clawing creature’s sole purpose was to cause my death.

Zane had supposedly delivered me to safety. Wouldn’t he be surprised?

I took advantage of an unexpected stretch of silence. Was it gone? Maybe it had given
up after breaking a claw.

Cautious, with all my senses screaming for me to stop, I crept toward the door, I
could picture The warning sign, “Abandon all hope, ye who enter here” from Dante’s
Inferno.
A well-crafted description of hell’s portico and possibly my door.

What waited on the other side was as inhuman as they came.

The devil himself? — I doubted it, but whatever it was could inflict diabolical damage
that I wouldn’t survive despite my increasing arsenal of supernatural weapons. I wasn’t
sure how I knew this. But I did.

I was aware that I’d met my match. I had to escape. Beyond that I didn’t have a clue
what my next steps would be. Before I could change my mind, I spun to face the four
familiar dressers.

My claustrophobic fears paled in comparison to whatever waited in the hallway. I’d
navigate the hidden air shaft rather than risking a faceoff with the beast.

Maybe there was another way. I had allies, and one committed purebred-protector. For
an instant, I’d forgotten the war just beyond my little prison. It had to be raging
out of control.

Sending out a mental probe, I located and latched onto Stryder. I needed to see Zane.
I didn’t know what I’d do if he was injured.

To my relief, he was very much alive and fighting viciously in his more mutant-like
form, his teeth shredding through the thick neck of a male mutant.

Tracking the movements of my group was nearly impossible. Everything was happening
faster than my human eyes could process. Fur, blood, and body parts were blasting
from the moving mass, and I had no clue who was slaughtering who.

Stryder was shielding a small group of mutant women, who’d switched to our side. Others
were attempting to join their cluster. I wondered why they weren’t advancing against
Jazmine’s hordes. It appeared they were cowering instead.

With every breath I drew, I wanted to contact Zane for help, but resisted the urge.

Popping into his, or one of my other friends’ heads, in the midst of this merciless
carnage, was bound have unpleasant consequences. Ones I wasn’t willing to risk in
order to save myself. They needed to keep their thoughts undivided. A blink at the
wrong moment could equal a gruesome death.

Instead, I continued my surveillance, hoping to catch sight of James McQuillen. After
a few minutes, I gave up. Getting back to the battle and away from whatever was lurking
beyond my door was my present priority.

Slipping from Styder’s mind, I hurried to the dresser. I was able to pull it away
from the wall, revealing the shaft’s murky maw. I wouldn’t be surprised if it spouted
teeth and chewed me to pieces.

Hesitating, I glanced one final time around the room. Part of me wanted to curl up
on my cot and bury my head under the flimsy pillow until danger passed.

Renewed clawing jolted me into action.

I entered the duct head first and made every attempt to distribute my body mass evenly,
making sure to keep some weight on my legs. I forced myself to slide along rather
than crawling.

Deb had mentioned that this method of travel would prevent the joints in the sheet
metal from breaking. I hoped she was right. I’d heard that crawling through an air
duct was a myth, but I was doing it. Granted, I was pretty small and this was a large
vent. I hoped it would support me the entire journey.

Wishing I had a flashlight, I inched forward. The shaft slopped downward, leading,
I guessed, to the basement.

The darkness felt alive, chilling me all over, and to make matters worse, a foul odor
grew stronger the further down I progressed. I pictured dead rats just ahead, and
waited with dread for one of my hands to come in contact with an animal’s decomposing
corpse.

After what felt like forever, I came to a drop. A light was more than necessary at
this juncture.

Remaining statue still, I attempted to shut off the rising panic constricting my throat.
I sucked hard, gasping for breath. Then I remembered my cell phone.

Slowing my breathing, I retrieved it from my bra, and powered it up. It provided just
enough illumination for me to identify an eight foot drop down a narrower shaft.

Taking several more deep breaths, I considered my limited options. One, slide down
the shaft and hope I didn’t crash through; two, scale down with my back on one side
and my feet across from me.

“Chloe, is that you?” A female voice filtered up the duct, sending my adrenaline soaring.

“Deb?” I asked my voice shaky. “Where are you?”

“In a shaft above the basement. Don’t jump!”

“Wouldn’t think of it,” I confirmed, striking off option one as an alternative for
my descent.

Confirming my chosen travel mode, she instructed, “Put your back against one side
and your feet on the other; keep pressure on your feet and lower one leg, followed
by your back, and then another leg. You can do it,” she encouraged.

Terrified, but without another choice, I followed her directions.

Eight feet felt like twenty as I inched my way down. At the halfway point, something
gouged my lower back. Pain seared through my right side.

“I think I’m bleeding. Oh, God, it hurts,” I whimpered.

“Chloe, don’t stop. You’ve got to keep moving.”

She was right, but I knew if I didn’t alter my course, the sharp protrusion would
damage more of my back.

With great care, and extra encouragement from Deb, I slid sideways, away from the
source of what had become an agonizing intrusion to my escape.

Descending with greater caution than before, I managed to reach Deb, who was stretched
out on her belly. Our faces almost touched.

“Thank God you’re all right.” She reached around and managed a half hug with us lying
down.

She pulled her arm away and grabbed my cell phone, shining the light on her hand.
I saw the blood the same time she did.

“Let’s get out of here.”

“How —?” It was her voice I’d heard from the room, and I was desperate to know what’d
happened to her and Connie.

“I’ll explain when we’re out of here, for now, keep your eyes on the prize,” she encouraged.

With her mutant agility, she was able to maneuver into a new position with ease, her
feet now in my face. But before I could complain about her shoes so close to my nose,
she began her advance, using a strange army crawl to slither through the duct like
a snake with appendages.

I followed her example to the best of my human ability and tried to keep up.

She could sense when I’d fallen behind, and slowed her pace to accommodate my lack
of dexterity.

Sooner than I’d expected, we reached a grate. “This is it,” she said, sounding excited.

All I felt was relieved.

I heard the grate rattle before she tugged it off. She shimmied through the small
opening and dropped to the floor.

“You made it!” Connie said from below.

Another flood of relief rushed through me at the sound of her voice. They were okay.
But where was Dillon?

“Come on, Chloe. Stay on your stomach and lean through the opening. We’ll do the rest,”
assured Deb.

Once my feet were on solid ground, I turned to embrace Deb, then Connie. “Thank you.”

“Here, sit down.” Connie led me to a card table with folding chairs around it. Several
decks of cards were stacked on the table’s otherwise clean surface.

“What is this, the custodian’s lair?” I asked, surveying the room full of cleaning
apparatus and supplies.

“None other.” Deb gave me a lopsided grin that belied the tension barely contained
beneath her cool exterior. “Connie, grab the first aid kit. It’s on the shelf over
there.”

While they cleaned my wound, which thankfully, wasn’t too deep, I learned where my
friends had disappeared to. Although
they
were safe, Dillon hadn’t fared as well.

He was dead.

Chapter 47

Dillon’s killer was none other than the monster attempting to make mince meat of my
door.

Connie, once she was assured of our current safety, reverted to silence, allowing
Deb to share the details of Dillon’s death and their escape. Connie’s grief was palpable.
There was nothing either of us could say to comfort her.

According to Deb, once they realized Dillon wouldn’t fit through the shaft, she and
Connie had decided, with his insistence, to go on without him, but he’d wanted to
try one final alternative before they separated.

Jazmine’s guards had locked them in the lower level room following their deliberate
distraction. She’d been suspicious of their squabble and wanted all three locked away
until later when she could interrogate them. Their escorts, eager to return to the
bonfire, had failed to search Dillon for his keys, and he was able to leave the room.

He’d warned the women about the feral creature that was kept isolated in a secured
room turned holding cell. Dillon wanted to ensure it remained in lockdown before leading
Connie and Deb out through the back entrance.

The last they’d seen of Dillon was him sprinting around the corner with a hideously
mutated creature pursuing him. Almost to the door, Dillon had slipped. The beast,
seizing the opportunity, had grabbed Dillon by the neck and dragged him away.

At this point, Connie erupted into tears. “He yelled for us to go back inside and
lock the door. There was nothing we could do. That thing was like a mutant that had
survived a nuclear holocaust. Oh, God, I don’t know what I’ll do without him.”

I moved to put an arm around her shoulders; she continued to cry, shuddering every
few seconds.

“We were in shock,” Deb continued. “Connie was beyond consoling. I didn’t know what
to do. But I knew Dillon would have wanted her to get out. About the same time,
that thing
returned and started slicing at the door.

I’m not sure how, but I convinced her we couldn’t allow Dillon’s death to be for nothing,
and we made it to the basement. On our way down, I heard something. It was you talking
to someone. I called out, but you didn’t answer.”

“But I did!”

“Who knows what happened.” Deb shrugged. “The acoustics are off in the shaft. I wanted
to get Connie as far away as possible. Then I returned to look for you.”

I wasn’t sure I could express my gratitude to them, but I tried. “Thank you so much
for coming back for me. The dresser was in place, though. That confused me. I thought
maybe I was hearing things.”

Despite Connie’s still flowing tears, Deb chuckled. “Oh, that. I kind of punched a
hole in the dresser so I could pull it back into position. I didn’t want to roll out
a welcome mat to our getaway route.”

I nodded, my thoughts already flipping to the next phase of our escape. “We have to
leave and join the others. They need us.” I couldn’t stand the thought of remaining
down here with Zane and my other friends fighting for
our
lives.

“No! We can’t! What if Dillon is still alive?” Connie blurted, surprising us both
with her outburst.

I glanced at Deb, uncertain how to handle Connie’s resistance.

Understanding my dilemma, Deb responded. “Babe, we need to get out of here. There
is no way Dillon could have taken that thing down. I have no clue where it came from
or why Jazmine kept it imprisoned here, but we don’t want to end up anywhere near
it. Dillon would never have wanted you to involve yourself. He wanted you free.”

Connie stared up at the ceiling. “No, I can’t just leave him. The beast came back
to the door when Chloe was inside. That was right after we entered the shaft. Maybe
it put Dillon aside for dinner later on.” She swallowed hard. “Maybe it wanted to
capture us all before mealtime.”

I hated to admit it, but she had a point. If it was Zane, wouldn’t I want to be sure?

“I’ll compromise,” Deb stated. “We go and get help from one of Chloe’s friends, and
then we look for Dillon.”

“What if we’re too late?” Connie pleaded.

Deb countered, “We can’t beat that thing alone. We need help. We’re wasting time arguing.”

“Let’s go already!” Connie half-shrieked. She leapt to her feet, tossed my arm aside,
and glanced around the room a final time. Then, without warning, she charged to the
far corner, and loped with inhuman grace up the stairs with Deb on her heels.

I caught up with them as they opened the door at the top. We all stood, just listening.
It was obvious the battle was still underway by the woeful wails of the dying, and
the vicious victory roars.

“We need a plan,” I whispered, afraid they’d shift into their mutant forms before
we decided our best course of action. I was just in time.

Connie whipped her head around, her eyes glowed red. “Kill Jazmine and everyone fighting
on her side. That’s
my
plan,” she snarled.

Almost afraid to answer, I offered a compromise. “Sounds like a good plan, but we
can’t just dash out there like madmen, women,” I amended. “There are two purebreds
besides Jazmine that are not on our side. Logan and James McQuillen are with her now.
I’ll identify them as soon as I can. Try to gather any …”

Midsentence, my friends, thrilled by the extensive violence, and no longer able to
contain their bloodlust, morphed into the mutants I so feared. Without a glance my
direction, they bolted toward the raging bonfire, leaving me in the shadows alone.

Cautious, I picked my way through the grass, staying close to the school’s wall. No
one would expect to find me out here. That was something in my favor.

With my back pressed against the cool concrete, I slowed my breathing for what felt
like the millionth time, counted to ten, and I launched myself into Stryder’s mind.
I located the ideal vantage point behind his eyes, and made sure to block my presence,
making certain not to disrupt his efforts, which had paid off noticeably during the
time I’d been absent.

He’d organized the defectors and they were advancing stealthily against their former
companions.

Bodies and bloody entrails were strewn across the field. I retched, unable to handle
the choking stench of blood and smoldering flesh. It seemed the welcoming flames had
served as a wicked and effective weapon of deathly destruction.

I tore my attention away from the surrounding horrors, and using Stryder’s keen eyesight
and heightened senses, intently sought a glimpse of my mate. It was plain, despite
the carnage, our side was winning. A hint of relief heightened my emotions, providing
my first twinge of optimism in a long while.

David and his bald men stood steadfast, arms crossed, along the sidelines. Every few
seconds, for no observable reason, a mutant would crumple to the ground. I suspected
David and his kin were using mental powers similar to my own.

Misty was standing, shoulders thrown back, in scary-wolf monster form on a small mountain
of bodies, her howls declaring victory.

Alcuin and Valamir, the two lone vampires, were fighting back to back, brandishing
gore-stained blades, and slicing through any rival that dared approach.

Where was Zane?

I counted Mack, Michael, and a purebred I assumed was Rita. They were bloodied, but
still fighting impressively. Connie and Deb had joined Styder’s group and were making
serious headway.

Still no Zane; it was as if he’d vanished from the scene, but I knew he wouldn’t leave
me or his pack mates behind.

An unexpected feeling of despair intruded, demolishing my confidence and drowning
the pleasure I’d felt watching my entourage as Valamir referred to them, kick some
serious mutant ass.

Chloe …
a choked voice whispered into my mind.
Is that you?
So faint were the words, they barely registered.

Uncertain, I swung to the left and spotted a solitary figure I’d missed at first glance.
The person was sprawled on the ground near a tree. Tentacles of incoming fog hovered
over the area where he lay, making it difficult to see.

I looked closer.

Zane? No! It couldn’t be.

He was twisted in an unnatural position but had managed to shift back into a human.

Without thought for my own safety, I half ran half stumbled to his fallen form, collapsing
on my knees beside him. I slapped a hand over my mouth to stifle the cries of anguish
fighting to explode. My mate had taught me well. Even as I stared at his broken and
brutalized body, I had enough sense to avoid attracting any unwanted attention.

Understanding that talking would be impossible in his condition, I entered his thoughts.
Zane. Oh. My. God. What can I do? You can’t die. I won’t let you. I love you. I need
you.

Press your mating mark against mine. Legend says this will heal ...

Unable to finish his instructions, a rasping spasm tore through his chest. Blood spewed
from his mouth and nose.

“You will not die! I forbid it!” I heard myself shout as panic threatened to override
my senses. I refused to succumb to the old Chloe’s fainting-in-a-time-crisis routine.

I needed to think, to focus. Becoming hysterical was not an option.

Zane wanted me to do something simple. I struggled to organize my jumbled thoughts.

Our marks. He wanted me to join our mating marks.

Spurred to action, I yanked off my shoe and sock and was pushing up my pant leg when
Jazmine, in her wolf form, skidded to a stop behind Zane. She changed shapes and faced
me as a flawless naked woman, hands on her narrow hips.

“Isn’t that sweet. You were going to activate the healing process,” she paused for
effect. “Well, I don’t think so! If I can’t have him; you won’t!”

“Just take me,” I pleaded. “Isn’t that what you wanted all along? Me out of the picture?
Then you can have Zane as a mate; you can use the coins to give him eternal life.
You love him, remember?”

No! I will never touch her. Don’t do this!
I.
Forbid. It.

Ignoring Zane, I made myself look up and meet Jazmine’s crimson eyes.

The smug look of defiance pasted across her face flipped a switch inside me. Inhuman
fury boiled to the surface and overflowed, giving me the burst of inner strength I
needed to resist.

Without effort, I fired a mental missile into her scheming brain with such efficiency
and force it blasted her onto her ass; her feet flew from beneath her. She collided
with a breath-sucking thump against a trio of boulders. What sounded like bones cracking
followed.

Scooting myself next to Zane, I prepared to press my marks, now glowing amber, against
his.

Out of the mist came Logan Sanders.

Snarls and guttural growls preceded The Alpha leaping at me as if he’d sprouted wings;
his claws extended, and lips curled back, with unrestrained hostility. His fangs appeared
more lethal than a saber-toothed tiger’s.

Terrorized, I lost my mental grip on Jazmine, who though unsteady, grappled to her
feet as another massive wolf plummeted into Logan, forcing him onto his back.

Logan responded fiercely, knocking his attacker off. The two rolled, each one struggling
for purchase. Jazmine, to my amazement, backed away and fled.

Now!
Zane’s pain-laced roar spurred me into action.

With speed I didn’t know I was capable of, I wrested my pant leg up and pushed Zane’s
over his knee. His sigils were writhing, welcoming mine. Instead of amber, they shone
black.

I pressed my calf against his and watched in amazement as our marks intertwined,
tattooing an extra, matching ring of sigils around our ankles. His turned the same
vibrant color as mine.

“You did it, Princess,” he said, his voice steady and strong, and his eyes glowing
with pride.

“I did, didn’t I?”

Healed by deep magic I couldn’t begin to comprehend, he pulled me into a long-awaited
embrace, and kissed me. First tenderly, and then more insistent, his mouth ravaging
mine. Running my fingers through his hair, I heard myself whimper his name.

Momentarily sated and with a look filled with promised pleasures, he lifted me to
my feet, where I clung to him, unwilling to let go. Losing him wasn’t an option.

“Well, Zane, are you prepared to be our Alpha?” asked a masculine voice.

Staring up at the moon, Zane looked thoughtful. “I can’t ignore that destiny has made
my purpose so obvious, old friend,” he said, serious.

Seeing it was James McQuillen who’d spoken so casually to Zane, sent a jolt of electricity
down my spine; I readied my torpedoes. Target, the betraying bastard’s manipulating
mind. This Judas wouldn’t have a chance to hang himself. I’d beat him to it.

Zane, sensing my intention, pressed his lips to my hair. “He’s one of the good guys.”

Staggered by this latest revelation, I intruded into McQuillen’s thoughts.

He didn’t erect any barriers, allowing me to snoop through his mental file cabinet.
My findings confirmed Zane’s statement. He
was
one of the good guys.