I Kissed a Dog (35 page)

“Logan’s dead,” McQuillen stated what I was already well aware of. The Indian had
defeated Logan, returning Zane to his rightful position as Pacific Pack’s Alpha.

Naked and torn apart, Logan’s blood soaked the ground around him.

I couldn’t help replaying what he’d so cruelly said to his sister. Something about
her blood nourishing the soil. He’d picked the wrong Sanders sibling. Misty Sanders
was just fine, alive and breathing. Her big brother, not so much.

Coincidently, at the moment, Misty, along with our core group, was trudging across
the schoolyard; a sizeable crowd of women and a few men who had surrendered in tow.
I’d examine their motives later to ensure their future loyalty to our pack.

Our pack
, I thought, inwardly cheering. I was married/mated to a pack leader. Who would have
visualized predictable me as part of a werewolf pack?

On a somewhat less pleasant note, I still had some in-depth questions for Alcuin about
his loyalty, or lack thereof, but they could wait. He’d come through for us in the
end. That’s what mattered.

“Where’s Jazmine?” someone asked.

It was then I remembered she’d disappeared during Logan and James McQuillen’s fatal
clash. “Oh, no! I think she got away.”

“She couldn’t have gone far!” Stryder barked. “Let’s spread out. Find her! If our
new alpha agrees, of course.” He inclined his head in honor of Zane’s position.

“To our new alpha!” Misty shouted. She dropped to her knee in reverence.

I watched in amazement as both werewolves and the remaining mutants bowed in submission,
accepting and acknowledging Zane as the uncontested leader of a new, more diverse
pack, a pack where purebreds and mutants would work and live together as one family.

Being a bi-racial woman with supernatural powers, I was for the all-new, all-inclusive
Pacific Pack.

Our victory celebration was cut short, not by a search for Jazmine, but a thundering
roar that raged louder than any lion, tiger, bear, mutant,
or
werewolf.

Working at an animal park, I knew that a male lion’s roar could be heard up to five
miles away, the loudest of any big cat. What I was hearing far surpassed anything
I’d ever heard, including the King of the Jungle.

I realized right then we wouldn’t have to hunt Dillon’s killer.

It was hunting us.

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Misty responded first. Blasting into the air, she shifted into a wolf before her front
paws hit the ground.

The nearby air swelled and rippled as the others followed her example, morphing into
their fighting forms and circling their prey, a predator unlike any they’d faced before.

The newly formed pack radiated a sense of confidence that came from having the numbers
advantage.

Our increased numbers offered me little assurance.

I’d been inside the creature’s mind. Its sole purpose was to kill. There would be
no reasoning. No surrender. Its death alone would stop its murderous cycle. God only
knew why Jazmine had kept the monster in her possession.

I needed to find the answer, and with it, the means to crush her rabid
pet
.

Zane glanced from the menacing demon back to me. I didn’t need any mindreading skills
to decipher his thoughts: Stay here. Stay back. We’ll handle it.

I nodded, well aware I would be disappointing my mate for what I hoped would be the
final time.

The pack bord
ered the demon. There were no other words but hell-spawned demon ¯ to describe what
we faced. Demonic might prove too kind a description by the night’s end.

A thunderous bellow erupted from the fiend’s mouth.

Even from my position I could see its lethal fangs. Several rows of what resembled
ice picks lined its cavernous maw. A thick tongue-like appendage rolled from its mouth,
reminding me of a humungous frog seeking to capture an unsuspecting insect.

If I had any control over the outcome, no one I knew would end up in its protruding
and malformed midsection.

To make matters worse, my thoughts flashed to Dillon. The idea that Dillon, or a part
of him, was being digested inside the beast revolted me. I swallowed the bile rising
in my throat. I would not allow myself to think about the slain guard. Any mourning
would have to wait. Connie was doing enough of that already. I needed to think about
locating Jazmine and bringing a rapid conclusion to this monster-sized problem.

Closer inspection revealed three sets of arms protruding from either side, all ending
with scissor-sharp claws. I had no doubt the extent of damage those claws could render.
I didn’t have to wait long to see the results.

One of the new mutant converts lunged, reaching for the beast’s throat. For the briefest
moment I was fooled into thinking the creature was embracing its attacker. An instant
later, all six arms sliced across the mutant’s back, gouging so deep, her spine was
severed.

Gagging, I turned away and caught a glimpse of what might be our last hope.

From the tree line, David and his mutated brethren floated forward, forming a perimeter
around the conflict.

In the interim, more mutants rushed the beast, and were gruesomely dispatched before
they could deal out any damage of their own.

David, what is this?
I was almost afraid to ask.
Can you stop it?

What you see is a loathsome mistake created on the barge. Jazmine is able to control
it, to a degree, with a mechanism she alone possesses. She’s eluded us all night.

We can restrain the beast not defeat it. It too is filled with fae, unseelie to be
exact, magic. Yet to our benefit, it is of very low intelligence, operating by brute
force and the instinct to kill.

An unstoppable idiot for a monster, we were facing the worst kind of enemy — dumb
and
deadly.

I had to find Jazmine. We needed the device she used to command it.

Contain it! I’m going for Jazmine.
I had to act fast.

Zane and James McQuillen signaled for the pack to cease their frontal attacks as David’s
cluster approached cloaked in silent secrecy. Without Zane’s command, the pack would
have turned their aggressions on the fae-blooded oddities. Jazmine had warned them
repeatedly about the dangers presented by the so-called abominations. The true abomination
was shrieking and grasping for anything breathing.

In unison, cloaked arms raised igniting an unprecedented pressure that whipped through
the field like a sudden storm. Low growls and snarls rumbled through the pack.

I could understand their uneasiness. Despite my trust and faith in David and his followers,
I, too, was fighting the urge to come unhinged, unglued, or more simply stated: go
stark raving mad.

Miraculously, whatever numinous spell they were weaving had the desired effect on
the demon.

It skirted backward, arms waving, terrified by the newest intruders. Its black, pupil
less eyes darted sideways, searching for the source of its distress. Spears of light
arced over it, forming a cage of energy the demon was powerless to escape from.

Its temporary capture was my prompt.

Closing my eyes I extended my mind, allowing it to expand.

Jazmine, with Martin, appeared on my mental radar, shoving boxes into the trunk of
an old car. Slipping into Jazmine’s mind as easily as Cinderella’s foot into the glass
slipper, I surveyed the scene. Seeing Martin still alive baffled me. How could such
a big coward have survived?

I noted with some satisfaction his prized Doberman was no longer by his side. It appeared
my mental barrage had reaped permanent havoc on the dog’s mind.

Realizing time was too scarce to spend gloating; with speed that surprised me, I perused
Jazmine’s mental agenda, flipping through her mind’s file folders. The device she
used to control the demon wasn’t hard to locate.

A necklace! She wore a chain around her neck. A silver whistle, resembling what an
owner might use to train a dog, hung from the end of her chain, along with several
keys and a heart locket.

I searched deeper and was rewarded with the sequence needed to complete the process.
The commands were simple. Two short whistles: kill everyone but those I’ve branded.
One long whistle: Kill anyone you see. Another directed it to return to its cell,
a different one for remaining silent, and, finally, I located the cease all activity
signal. Three long bursts of piercing sound. That’s the one I stashed in my own memory
files.

Now I just had to retrieve one tiny, seemingly insignificant instrument that could
alter the course of our lives by shutting down the greatest threat I’d ever seen.

No big deal
, I thought sarcastically hoping to inspire my courage. But considering Jazmine loading
a car on the property’s far side wouldn’t make my task any easier. Glancing at David’s
men, I ensured their magic-powered cage was still standing strong, its captive secured
inside.

Zane and his inner circle, including the two vampires, were gesturing wildly as they
attempted to strategize their next move. He’d for a moment forgotten me, so it seemed.

Testing this theory, I dashed into the ever-thickening fog. When I was sure no one
was following, I slowed my pace, directing my full attention on Martin.

Using my powers I infiltrated Martin’s mind and flipped the off switch.

He slumped to the ground, dropping the box he’d been lifting. The picture of a puppeteer
snipping the puppet’s strings came to mind. Martin was my very own pliable puppet.

Since accepting the mating mark, I had experienced yet another expansion of my gifts.
It was if a sealed book, overflowing with instructions, had been unlocked, revealing
the mysteries and methods for managing my powers.

All I had to do was wish for a desired outcome and the solution materialized. Persuading
someone to act in a specific manner was, after years of trying and failing, at last
an option. I’d developed a form of mind control. Instead of causing debilitating mental
anguish, painful and potent enough to kill, I could also now command my target to
behave precisely as I wished. How convenient! And terrifying.

Such power could prove corrupting if I didn’t keep a firm reign on it. I’d worry about
putting safeguards in place later, after our current mess was cleaned up.

Speaking of messes, I’d reached the school’s back parking lot. I peered around the
wall. Martin lay on the pavement with items from his box strewn around him. I couldn’t
make out what had spilled.

The limo we’d arrived in was nowhere in sight. Just the rundown car and two other
vehicles were visible under the dazzling moonlight. Jazmine was stooped over Martin.

I wasn’t sure what to do. I wanted her necklace, but for some insane reason, I felt
the overwhelming urge to confront her first.

There were plenty of reasons to do just that. She’d nearly allowed Zane to die. She’d
victimized Plum Beach by gruesomely killing its inhabitants; she’d experimented on
unsuspecting men, turning them into inhuman creatures; captured and tormented countless
mutant women;
and
she’d ensured that a little boy spent a portion of his life in a secured mental hospital.

If those weren’t reasons enough, the fact remained I despised her.

Looking into her eyes before I destroyed her seemed appropriate. On some level I understood
that I should perform another mental trick like I had on Martin and be done with it,
but an unfamiliar burning sensation swept through me, igniting a blaze of rage I wasn’t
certain I could douse, nor was I sure I wanted to.

Ignoring the sensible voice telling me to grab the whistle and return to the others,
I took a tentative step away from the school. But before I could advance further,
a chilling wind gust swept through the tree branches, whipping through my hair. As
I inhaled the resulting crisp fragrance, Jazmine did the same. She kept her face lifted,
sniffing.

I knew before she spun to face me she’d smelled me.

Convinced of my ability to overpower her with my mental magic, I strode forward, feeling
for the first time in my life, invincible.

She shifted with such speed; I failed to see the usual vibration preceding the change.

A biblical warning my stepdad often quoted flashed through my mind in the moment before
she sprang.

Pride cometh before a fall.

My pride was about to get me killed.

Chapter
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Several unforeseen events happened at once.

All surrounding movement shifted seamlessly into slow motion. Including Jazmine arcing
through the air, making me think of Logan before James McQuillen cut his life short;
saving mine in the process.

This time no one was waiting in the wings to rescue me.

I was alone, and to make things worse, I felt something altering inside me.

My mating marks were alive, animated. A fiery ring of heat swirled insistently around
my ankle igniting something unfamiliar yet exhilarating. I acknowledged the warm sensations
spreading up my legs and expanding through my torso.

My head tingled like a million tiny pins were pricking my scalp in a perfect chorus.
An image of my hair separating from my head threatened to send me into hysterics despite
my looming death.

Even more bizarre, what looked like ripples of water floated past me in a fuzzy haze,
reminding me of the strange vibrations that occurred before the werewolves shifted
forms.

No. It wasn’t possible. How?

In answer, my body bowed forward, knocking me to my hands and knees. The warmth flooding
through me was no longer pleasant, and was scorching me from within.

If blood could boil, mine was.

Throbbing pain racked every nerve, muscle, and bone in my body as I felt myself split
apart, reshaping and reforming into something not me, something not human.

I lifted my head and howled just in time to see Jazmine plow into my crouching form,
sending me flying.

The next seconds were a blur of fur and teeth.

Animal instinct took over as we rolled across the grassy field fighting for dominance.
Frantic, I sought my mental powers, praying they were still accessible.

They were.

Using them, I slammed into Jazmine’s mind paralyzing her like a fly trapped in a spider’s
web. My teeth sank into flesh and her blood flooded my mouth, increasing my lust for
vengeance.

She shuddered then stilled. The faintest heartbeat remained.

The human part of me hesitated, feeling like I’d cheated and fought dirty, but I quickly
focused on the evil she’d birthed and the lives she’d destroyed. She’d never agree
to surrender, nor would she cease her villainous agenda.

There was no choice. Not anymore.

Picturing her brutalized victims, I clamped down, pressing my fangs deeper into her
neck and shaking my muzzle. I could feel the now sporadic beat of her heart as it
slowed, and then stopped altogether, her life force at last extinguished.

Afraid she might somehow rejuvenate herself I refused to relax my hold.

“Jazmine, oh God, no!”

Martin’s sharp cry served as the signal for me to stop. Releasing my grip, I swung
my head around meeting Martin’s eyes with my own.

He took a step back, another, and looked at the pavement near the car. Keeping his
eyes trained on me, he crouched, and using both hands, began sweeping the fallen items
into a heap.

With my improved werewolf vision, or whatever it was I’d become, a glint of something
shiny caught my attention.

The coins! Of course! They were trying to escape with the coins. That’s why Jazmine
had fled in the midst of a battle. She had wanted the formula for eternal life more
than victory tonight. Rebuilding her army would come later as long as she possessed
the coins. Her cause had now been inherited by Martin, who was scrambling to locate
the prize.

With some relief, I realized Martin didn’t have the translation. As far as I knew,
unless Rita and the others had deciphered it, which was indeed a possibility, no one
had it.

Regardless, I couldn’t allow something so important that had destroyed so many lives
remain in the hands of a madman. Martin, with his misguided loyalty to Jazmine, certainly
qualified as mad.

Wanting my human hands back so I could gather coins, I pictured myself as Chloe Carpenter,
human female, and following renewed bodily rearrangements, I was rewarded with my
original, God-given shape. Naked shape, but who was complaining at this stage of the
game?

Once more taking advantage of my mind magic, I froze Martin in place and dashed to
the car. I found two of the coins, and was just starting to sift through the spilled
contents of his suitcase, when an earth-shattering roar shattered any semblance of
momentary sanity I was feeling.

I’d forgotten the demonic beast and the whistle I was supposed to be retrieving.

So caught up in my hatred of Jazmine and our subsequent fight, I’d failed my friends
again.

Gripping the two coins, I scurried back to where I’d overpowered Jazmine.

It wasn’t a pretty sight.

The grass was trampled and torn. Splatters of blood dotted the landscape. Jazmine’s
throat yawned open like a gory mouth. Her eyes, no longer filled with anger and loathing,
were void of anything. They were empty. Lifeless.

I’d killed her.

And in the process I’d emerged somehow victorious, and also unscathed.

Trying to ignore the unfamiliar feelings that resulted from taking a life, I continued
my frantic search for the one thing that could control the rampaging monster.

Without any concrete way to determine how long I’d been away from the others, I had
to consider that the demon might have freed itself from David’s magic-made prison.

With that horrible thought urging me on, I dropped to my knees, running my fingers
through the grass. At this rate, it would be dawn before I found anything.

Sensing a nearby presence, a chill swept across my exposed back.

I rocked back to sit on my heels, more mortified by my bare ass on display than who
my stalker might be.

“Chloe, are you hurt? What happened?” Zane rushed to help me while pulling off his
tattered and blood drenched T-shirt. He knelt and lifted my chin, his eyes searching
mine.

Unable to meet his gaze, I dropped my head. “We have to find the whistle,” I whispered.
Afraid if I said more, or acknowledged his gentle touch, I might break. A breakdown
would have to wait. We had a demon to exercise.

Pulling away, I yanked on his filthy shirt and stood, relieved to see it reached mid
thigh. “The whistle’s silver,” I added, before sending Zane a mental summary of my
fight with Jazmine and subsequent search for the coins.

“Here. Put them somewhere safe.” I pressed the coins into his hand. He shoved them
deep into the front pocket of his jeans. To my relief, he didn’t press for more details.

Turning his attention to the ground, his eyes rested on Jazmine, but again he didn’t
comment. “We have to hurry. That
thing
is testing the barrier. They can’t keep it up much longer. They’ve expended too much
magic.”

We had to help David and his fae-blooded friends; they’d done so much for us. Without
them, we’d all be dead.

With that in mind, we explored what felt like every blade of grass. My frustration
increased the longer we looked. The beast was barking excitedly, a sure sign it was
closer to freedom.

“Dammit,” I groaned. “Oh no!”

“What?” Zane looked up, puzzled.

“I figured it flew off Jazmine during our … anyway, maybe she’s still wearing it.”

Zane stalked over to gaze down at his former fiancé. I hurried to join him.

“There, in her hair.” I pointed; shocked to see the chain tangled in her blood-matted
bob, the whistle still intact. I couldn’t help remembering her sleek coiffed hair
the first time I’d seen her. She’d seemed indestructible.

I knew better now. No one was indestructible.

Without a hint of compassion, Zane ripped the chain from her bloodied throat and grasped
the one thing that could silence the beast.

“Let’s move!” He grabbed my hand.

Relieved he didn’t expect me to stay behind, I matched him stride for stride as we
raced around the building, another benefit of my mating marks and the magic they’d
unleashed. I now had supernatural speed, and it felt incredible.

“I know the whistle sequences,” I yelled. We were close enough for me to see the demon
flailing at the cage’s dimming lights, the enchanted energy failing.

Zane halted, handing me our last hope. “No closer. Try it from here.”

Three long blasts through a little silver cylinder and it would be over.

Finally, something simple.