The Becoming Trilogy Box Set (Books 1-3) (94 page)

Tense seconds later the car
pulled away and she scooted further over, hugging the vehicle’s door handle.
Gov simply watched her, stretching out his long legs and arranging the leather
kilt over his denim-covered thighs. He really liked his kilts.

‘Did you bring it?’ he asked,
that strange, smoked accent of his filling the car.

There was no mistaking what
he meant. Getting the thing had been gross. Getting it past Madden had been
harder. She patted her backpack, the wolf skull wrapped in her shirts to
disguise its shape. The doctor had been none the wiser when she’d asked to stop
off at her house for a change of clothes.

Gov nodded and went over what
she needed to do, making sure she understood. Her head was aching by the time
the city bled into countryside. It was the middle of the night, in the middle
of nowhere, and, even with her sharp sight, the greens were all muted by
shadows. Fields spanned either side of them for miles, dry-stone walls lining
the road. The only spots of true light were the fields full of cows' eyes,
shining under the taxi’s beams.

She glanced at her phone
again. Gov had been quite specific about the timing. They had to make it by
dawn, or she’d have to wait another day.

The taxi pulled up and
hefting her backpack, Ash followed Gov to a seriously underwhelming hole in the
ground. He looked at her expectantly and she blinked at him.

‘What?’

He waved an arm towards the
hole with a flare only he could make ridiculously menacing.

Oh …
Ash looked at it again. ‘This is it? The kitty-cave?’
It was how Google had described it.

‘Oweynagat,’ he corrected
with a tight jaw. The man was touchy.

She repeated the name. The
place didn’t look very mystic, more like the entrance to a big rabbit warren,
or a small tomb, but there was no mistaking how skittish her wolf was. It
wanted away from there. It wanted to go home to its mate.
Soon,
Ash
reassured and focused on the cave.

The hole couldn’t have been
more than knee high, with a solid stone ledge overhanging the entrance, topped
by an abundance of greenery and wiry branches.

‘Will I fit?’ She didn’t want
to end up getting her ass stuck.

Gov was silent.

Ash looked over her shoulder
to find him tapping his watch. She threw up her hands.

‘All right! Jeez ...’ She
wasn’t ready. Fear was a sickness in her stomach, but he wasn’t letting her
stall anymore. Opening her pack, she unwound the clothes from the wolf skull
and knelt at the entrance, her legging-clad knees sinking into the damp earth.
Ash tried not to think too much about what she was about to do. Gov handed her
the knife, hilt first and then backed up, perching on a slab a ways off.

And then they waited.

The silence stretched,
awkward and strained, and she gripped the knife, ready for that first hint of
sunlight.

‘Where is she?’

‘Huh?’ Madden’s lolling head
jerked back and the shotgun in his hands snapped up on instinct, aimed in the
direction of the naked, glowering male stood beneath the porch-light.

‘Ash,’ Connal demanded,
waving the piece of paper in his fist. ‘Did you see her leave?’

‘Sure,’ Madden nodded and
lowered the gun, resting it across his lap as he shook himself awake. ‘She said
she couldn’t sleep. Went out on patrol.’ He tugged up his sleeve to examine his
watch-face. ‘I dunno, an hour ago? Maybe two,’ he said, gauging the still-dark
sky.

‘The hell she did,’ Connal
growled. ‘She’s gone to find
her
.’

‘Her?’ Madden’s eyes widened
in comprehension. ‘The Morrígan?’

‘Yes, the fucking Morrígan,’
he spat, showing him the note. ‘That’s the
help
the Master offered.’

The doctor read quickly,
failing miserably to disguise his excitement at the renewed prospect of a cure for
Liath.

‘Curb your enthusiasm,’
Connal said icily, glaring at him as he snatched back the paper. ‘You knew
about this? You took her to Dublin,’ he hissed, stabbing at the words.

‘No,’ Madden said, palms
raised in surrender. ‘I swear to you, Connal, she never said a word to me.’

‘I should have known. She was
holding something back last night.’ Jaw clenched, he scrubbed at his temple. ‘I
have to go after her.’

‘What about the
Olc
?
What if it comes to the house?’

Connal’s eyes narrowed,
scanning the night. ‘I suggest you stay awake, and armed, Doctor. If Ash gets
hurt tonight, that demon wolf will be the least of your problems.’

‘I told you,’ Madden
insisted, ‘she said she was patrolling.’

‘And you let her go alone.
That
thing
almost killed her last time.’

Madden threw up his hands.
‘Was I supposed to leave the entire house undefended and follow your girlfriend
on her midnight ramble?’

A muscle jumped at the corner
of Connal’s eye. ‘You could have woken me.’

‘I was doing well to keep
myself awake,’ he said, and exhaustion deepened his voice.

‘Fuck,’ Connal exhaled. ‘I’m
sorry. This isn’t your fault.’ No. It was his, for making a bargain he couldn’t
keep, and because she wasn’t the only one to hold back. When he stonewalled her
repeatedly about her grandmother, it hadn’t been only her he’d been trying to
protect. ‘Did you see which way she went?’

‘She took the lane,’ Madden
pointed to the dirt track that led through the paddocks and off the Flannery
property.

Connal nodded a curt thanks,
scrunched the note in his fist and launched himself off the porch. Shifting
mid-air, his massive, white wolf hit the ground running.

Channelling his pent-up
frustrations into the flex and thrust of powerful limbs, he lunged forward,
following the tendrils of her scent to the boundary of the Flannery land.
There, at the side of the narrow country lane, the trail ended abruptly, with
only the fading scent of gasoline lingering in the air.

His wolf circled the spot,
sniffing, unsure how to proceed.

She’d gone by car, which
meant she had help. Which meant his chances of catching up with her before …
Oh
Ash … I’m sorry.
He looked to the sky, where the first pink fingers of dawn
were already clawing up over the horizon.
I should have told you, Ash. You
never would have sought her out if you’d known what she really is.

Memories of all the sick
things the Morrígan had made him do rose up on a wave of nausea. Would she tell
Ash what he hadn’t had the guts to confess to her? Would it matter that he’d
done it to save her? Would she even live to hear his excuses?

There was nothing for them in
Morrígan, only death, and he was out of time to stop her. In his heart, he knew
it, but his wolf refused to give in. It would follow its mate through the gates
of Hell and fuck the consequences.

Connal went up on his hind
legs, opened his throat, and howled at the brightening sky: a mournful,
haunting cry that scattered the crows from the trees.

The last thing he expected
was an answer, but one came, in the form of an ugly, gurgling wail. Hard on its
heels, the thing that had once been Doyle came crashing through the
undergrowth, a blur of aggression and bared teeth, ploughing into Connal with
the force of a tank. The momentum alone sent him reeling and he hit the ground
hard. The thing was on him before he had time to react. Fiery eyes blazing, its
teeth found home around Connal’s throat, pinning him, cutting off his air while
its paws sought the purchase on his skull that would allow him to sever head
from neck.

Connal thrashed to get a grip
on his attacker, but its lax skin simply gave way to the powerful rake of his
claws.
I’m going to die wrestling a plucked chicken,
he thought, as
consciousness slowly slipped from his grasp
. A giant, rabid plucked chicken.
He kicked out from beneath the creature with all he had. Might as well have
been punching concrete, for all it budged. The thing was unnaturally strong,
and had him at a huge disadvantage. Hot blood pumped down the back of Connal’s
neck where the
olc
’s fangs had punctured his throat. Its excited breath
roared in his ears, and that smell, Gods, it was like burning flesh. Teeth
locked-in, it shook Connal in its jaws like a puppy disembowelling a
stuffed-toy.

This is it,
Connal thought,
I don’t even get to say goodbye.

The shot rang out, echoing
off the hillsides. Connal felt the impact as the creature disengaged on a whine
and rolled off his body like a spent lover. Footsteps approached, a shadow
blocked out the first rays of dawn, and he found himself looking up into the
barrels of a shotgun. Only then did he realise that somewhere in the struggle,
his body had shifted back to human form.

‘Thought you were keeping the
home-fires burning,’ Connal croaked, probing the ravaged mess of his neck with
careful fingertips.

‘I heard a howl. Thought it
might be the creature. Seems I was right,’ Madden replied.

‘The howl was me,’ Connal
replied, propping up on his elbows. ‘The sound must have attracted it.’

Madden stepped over Connal
and toed at the paralysed animal with his boot. Flat on its back, barrel chest
in the air, its limbs hung loose from the sides of its pale, naked body, its
jowls flapped back off nasty, bloodied teeth.

Like a puppy looking for a
belly-rub
, Connal thought, but not
any kind of puppy you’d want to lay hands on.

‘Damn, that thing’s ugly.
Looks like a Christmas turkey, plucked and stuffed and ready to roast.’

‘And to think you aspired to
that
,’
Connal laughed and Madden extended a hand to help him to his feet.

‘No. I aspired to be like
you,’ the doctor replied.

‘You know, from where I stand,
you got a lot going for you, Doc. Just the way you are.’

Madden glared at him. ‘You
start singing Billy Joel at me, fucker, and your arse will find itself on the
receiving end of a double dose of Maura Flannery’s finest wolfhound spit.’ He
cocked the shotgun just to show he meant business. ‘That’s three times now I’ve
saved your life. You could show a little gratitude.’

Connal cocked a brow. ‘That
ravener had you, if I hadn’t tripped you. And as for your mutant pet here -’ he
turned to look at the creature and the words stalled half-way up his throat.

‘What the fuck,’ Madden
breathed.

A shaft of morning sun had
broken through the clouds and the motionless body lay sprawled in its glow.
Crawling over its skin, vining black branches tracked along the path of its
veins, spreading to cover its entire body in a matter of moments. Its pink skin
darkened, taking on the familiar blue hue of death that could mean only one
thing.

‘The curse,’ Connal murmured.
‘I don’t understand,’ he said, looking questioningly at Madden before running a
check over his own body to make sure he was still immune. Thankfully, the
Morrígan’s promise was seemingly still in effect. ‘Why now? Why not the moment
he changed into a wolf? It wasn’t full moon then any more than it is now.’

‘I’m not sure.’ Madden shook
his head and pushed at the creature’s flank with his foot. Crumbling flesh came
away in the pattern of his boot-sole and that smell of burning Connal had
picked up on during the struggle hit his sinuses with redoubled potency.

‘But I have a theory,' Madden
added.

‘Hit me.’

‘I questioned it from the
moment I realised it was alive. I mean, sure, it’s a mutant, a
thegn
forced
to become wolf, but still biologically a wolf. So there’s no reason it
shouldn’t shrivel up outside of the full moon, just like it’s doing now, unless
-’

Connal looked at him and his
jaw went slack. ‘Unless the curse had somehow been broken. You think Ash … ?’

Madden nodded. ‘I do. You saw
what happened when she bled into the water. I’ve never seen a reaction like
that. That red fog is what sustains the Fomorians during full moon. It’s their
life support. I should have questioned it then.’