A Cold Day in Hell (The Hellcat Series) (2 page)

Kyle had first-hand experience of exac
tly how crazy this man had been. He'd been captured by the egomaniac and used as a guinea pig for his genetic research.  The man had then had the audacity to offer Kyle a job as Alpha Leader of the mercenaries.  He was a true crackpot, who'd ultimately tried to turn himself into a Werewolf in order to save his own ass.  It'd backfired, and Gabi had put him down like the rabid dog he was.  Unfortunately the SMV Council weren't in agreement.

Their mandate wasn't to police humans, so Gabi was in the SMV dog
box (not for the first time, but this was her most severe transgression so far), and her relationship with Byron, SMV co-founder and the closest thing she had to a father after her own had been killed in the line of duty for the SMV, was strained. 

To casual friends and acquaintances
, she was coping well and enjoying having more time to herself, but Kyle knew better.  Something was seriously bugging her, but she brushed him off every time he broached the subject.  They'd been best friends since school days, and there was almost nothing they didn't share.  Kyle had been putting down her reticence to his newly developing relationship with Trish, who had become a close friend of Gabi's after Jason’s efforts saw both Trish and her brother, a work colleague of Gabi's, infected with Lycanthropy.  Kyle had figured she was giving them space to get to know each other, while also finding her feet in her relationship with Julius. 

But now he thought maybe he'd been wrong. 

He'd seen something disturbing in Julius's behaviour recently.  He'd caught Julius watching Gabi with a dark, intense, protective stare when she wasn't looking.  Extra guards lurked everywhere the two of them went, and Julius had developed an uncharacteristic interest in his new mobile phone.  The Werewolf Pack Leaders of the City had been put on alert about visiting Vampires, and instructed to report any suspicious visitors to Julius's Clan immediately.  Trish had been sworn to secrecy about the work she did for Julius.  She'd once moonlighted as a hacker, and Julius was now employing her to hack information for him.  She refused to discuss the details, even with Kyle, but it was apparent that she'd uncovered something disturbing. 

As he watched the pair dance, Kyle was suddenly certain of one thing.  His eyes met Alexander's
, and the slender Vampire gave a slight nod, his arrogant smirk for once a deadly serious mask. 

Trouble was on the way, and it was going to be big and nasty and equipped with fangs.

CHAPTER 1

Gabi stared the Werewolf down, her hands on her petite hips, her short sword, Nex, securely tucked in a sheath down her back.  He glared at her belligerently from just a few feet away, furious that she'd let herself into the little house after he refused to answer the door.  He wasn't in wolf form, but the scent of Werewolf was thick enough to be gag-inducing for anyone with better-than-human olfactory senses.  She worked hard not to wrinkle her nose in disgust.  It wasn't just the Werewolf scent, the man smelled like he hadn't showered in days. 

"What do you want?  Did Trish send you?  Did she tell you I need a friendly face to cheer me up?" he snarled
, 180 pounds of muscular, silver-eyed, brown-haired, pissed-off, dominant Werewolf.  His left leg was missing from just above the knee.  The remainder of his leg was tucked into a lifelike prosthetic lower limb, complete with foot and hinged ankle joint, clearly visible below his tatty football shorts.  A state-of-the-art, bladelike prosthetic rested against a wall behind him, nestled close to a pair of crutches. 

Nothing like trying to flaunt the excuse for your rage, Gabi thought, biting back a growl of her own.  Served her right for thinking just yesterday that life had been just a little too calm and routine for her liking.  The phone call from Trish wasn't completely unexpected, nor was the plea for help.  In a case like this she would've stepped up to help even Athena (one of her least favourite people in the world)
, so it was impossible to say no to Trish, the first real female friend she'd had in years. 

"Derek, enough," she
snapped, her voice a whip through the room.  "You've had long enough to feel sorry for yourself."  She watched the disbelieving anger pound through him, and tensed, waiting for his reaction.  But her words had momentarily knocked him off balance.  He was so accustomed to everyone tiptoeing around him, trying to say the right thing, not saying anything to set off his hair-trigger temper, that her attitude simply floored him.  And she hadn't even gotten started yet. 

She
levelled a glare at him.  "Time to stop taking the coward's road.  Look at how you're forcing Trish to deal with all of this.  Your little sister has to be the one acting strong, being the rock, taking all the shit you've been dishing out day after day for weeks."

She hadn't seen him much since that first full moon after he'd lost his leg during the raid on Jason's compound.  Gabi didn't have the kind of personality that dealt well with the feeling-sorry-for-oneself phase of grieving. 
Not that Derek hadn't been through a fair-sized shit-storm in the last two months.  Coping with the Change to Werewolf, attacking your own sister, and having to watch her go through the Change too, then losing half your leg would break some people.

The memory of the night he lost his leg was still starkly imprinted in her
mind.  The scene would haunt her dreams for months: a huge, beautiful, chocolate brown Werewolf snapping and snarling his rage and pain to the small crowd of Vampires and Werewolves keeping him contained; his hind leg savaged and hanging on by only a small strip of skin; severed tendons, muscles and bone all clearly visible; blood pouring from the horrific injury over mangled flesh and fur.  It had been one breath shy of impossible to centre herself enough to push her will towards the almost demented wolf and calm it, convince it that they meant it no harm and it needed to let them help. 

It was a lucky thing she'd accidentally discovered, just weeks before, that her ability to control the emotions and reactions of animals also extended to
the wolf side of a Werewolf.  It had taken precious minutes, but she'd finally calmed him enough that he could Change to human form and the medics could treat him.  They'd stopped the bleeding and saved his life, but not even a Werewolf could heal a leg that badly damaged. 

Jonathon, the City's resident Vampire doctor, had had to perform an amputation.  It had affected every person who'd been involved.  Losing a Werewolf to death was one thing, having a live one trying to cope with a disability was something else entirely.

There was no longer any chance of Derek resuming his career as a stunt double for action movie stars, and his chances of making it as an SMV Hunter were now slim.  It was one thing to be in human form, where a prosthetic leg combined with his Werewolf strength, balance and speed still gave him an edge over most opponents, but once he Changed to wolf form, he was one leg down and at a severe disadvantage.  He viewed himself as a cripple, as damaged goods with no future.  If he continued to see himself like that, then that's exactly what Gabi feared he would become. 

"What's wrong
, Bo?" she continued, deliberately goading him as he tried to breathe through the anger. "Does the truth hurt?  Is it hard to hear that you're acting like a spoilt three-year-old?  Would you prefer if I left you to your precious little pity party?"  Her cruel jibes broke the shock of her initial attack, and he roared, diving at her in a mad rush of mindless temper.  The injury had done nothing to make him slower or weaker than your average werewolf, so he hit her with the force of a charging buffalo.  It took every ounce of her self-control not to jump out of his path.

She felt pain explode in her chest as her breath left her in a whoosh
, and a couple of ribs groaned warningly.  He pounded her into the floorboards, his body like a pillar of concrete over hers, one fist raised.  She had to mentally remind herself that this was all part of the plan.  Luckily her Dhampir blood, strengthened by a recent intake of well-matured, Master Vampire blood (the memory almost drew a blush despite her current activity), would heal any physical damage within hours. 

She squeezed one eye shut, trying to draw breath as he suddenly froze, his rage turning to contrition in an instant. 
Nex's sheath dug into her spine, and she squirmed a little.

"Gabi," he
gasped, "I'm sorry.  Gabi, fuck, I didn't mean to…"  He looked appalled as he rolled off her, then leaned in, his hands anxiously moving to check her for injury.  "Did I hurt…" Before he finished his sentence, Gabi drove a fist into his solar plexus.  He reared back, grunting in surprise and pain just as she caught his head between her knees and twisted, flipping him over her body flat onto his back on the other side of her.  His leg caught a small coffee table and sent it skittering into a wall, splintering it into several pieces and leaving a dent in the plaster. 

She lay for a moment gasping, drawing in painful
lungfuls of air, but the fight had energised her like nothing else had in weeks.  Derek rolled onto his knees, coughing, glaring at her in hurt astonishment.  But she wasn't letting him get off that easy.  It was time for the anger stage, and he needed to let rip on someone.  Gabi wouldn't allow it to be Trish, and she knew if he picked a fight with Kyle or one of the other Werewolves or Vampires, it would turn deadly serious.  It was the dominant Werewolf 'thing'.  The same 'thing' she was relying on to keep him from actually trying to kill her; she didn't want to put him out of his misery quite that permanently.  Werewolves were notorious for being protective of women, even though most of their women were more than capable of looking after themselves. 

"Come on
, Mr Self-pity," she taunted him again, "is that the best you've got?"  She sprang lightly to her feet, staying in a low fighter's stance.  He flipped quickly to his feet, well, foot; he had to position the prosthesis back on the floor before he was properly balanced.  He never took his eyes off her face, though. He knew her well enough to know she'd wipe the floor with him if he wasn't very careful.  Gabi smiled a small, vicious grin and then whirled toward him, aiming a lightning-fast kick at his ribs.  He caught her foot, but hadn't anticipated the follow-up roundhouse kick from her other foot, catching him square on the side of his face and sending his head snapping to the side.  She landed in a crouch and took in his expression; in an instant she knew it was game on. 

He growled, wiping blood from the corner of his mouth, but the rage
had been usurped by excitement, determination and wolf cunning.  He prowled closer to her, circling, testing her reflexes.  She allowed his assessment for a few seconds, feeling the wolf in him sizing her up: its amusement at her petite stature, its respect for her speed and agility, its readiness to play.  She feinted to one side, hooking a wooden chair with one foot, flicking it up into the air before grabbing and swinging it hard into Derek's left side.  It smashed against his arm and torso, disintegrating into pieces.  He took the blow with a grunt and then lunged for her again. 

Luckily the cottage was furnished with only the basics, it was one of Julius's spare housing blocks and was rarely in use.  Derek had started off pulling his punches, not laying into her like he would with a man. He was superb at timing after his years as a stuntman, but Gabi didn't allow him the same consideration, and as she gradually notched up the bruises and broken bones, he began to fight more seriously. 

Gabi knew every weak spot there was on a Werewolf, she'd grown up sparring with Kyle, her best friend, and
she often trained at SMV headquarters against one or more of the other Hunters or trainees.  In contrast, Derek knew almost nothing about her fighting style and martial arts training.  Up until two months ago Derek had only known her as an experienced animal trainer who dealt largely with big cats and other potentially-lethal-to-man animals on movie sets.  He'd been trying to get into her bed for years, but she'd kept him at arm’s length because he was a norm.  It’d led to some uncomfortable moments between them lately; she hoped to hell he was finally getting over his interest in her as a bed mate. 

They must have been at it for over half an hour when a knock at the door distracted them.  They paused, but didn't dare take their eyes from each other. 

"It's Patrick," called a deep male voice from the other side.  He was Julius's daytime Head of Security, a military veteran and also a Werewolf.  "Julius sent me to ask if you two will call a truce so that he can get some rest." 

Guilt slapped Gabi in the face.  The mental connection between her and Julius had grown so strong recently that he'd probably felt every kick, punch, and body slam, never mind the adrenalin high. 

She swiped at the sweat dripping into her eyes with the back of her hand.  Her breathing was harsh and laboured. She was bleeding from a couple of places and could feel bruises and contusions forming all over her body.  She finally dropped her fighting stance and relaxed, releasing Derek's gaze to run her eyes over the whole of him.  He was in even worse shape than she was, but there was a sparkle in his eyes, and the dark cloud that seemed to have been part of him when she arrived had dissipated.