Wayward Son (35 page)

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Authors: Heath Stallcup

BOOK: Wayward Son
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Spalding rolled to the side and sucked in a lungful of air, the creature having squeezed most of it from his body in a failed attempt to crush him. He turned his head to see Apollo wrestling with the monster and Spalding reached for his weapon. His carbine had been knocked loose so he pulled his pistol from the thigh holster. Rolling to his side Spalding used the concrete ground to steady his aim.

“I gotchu now, motherfucker!” Apollo grabbed a handful of werewolf throat and squeezed for all he was worth.

The creature batted his arm away and grabbed him by his tactical vest, sliding him out from under its massive form. Spalding lost his shot as Apollo was dangled in front of him. With a speed that neither man suspected, the creature pushed Apollo out and away, sending him smashing into the closed end of the container next to them, rattling the metal sides.

Spalding pointed the pistol and let loose three rounds into empty air…the creature had vanished. “Where the hell did it go?” He crawled to his knees and stared around the corner of the container. “Bravo Two, do you have eyes on that thing?”

“Negative, Spank. It appeared then vanished.” Wallace scanned the area and ground his teeth in frustration. “It’s fast.”

Spalding duck-walked to Apollo and helped him to sit up. He keyed his throat mic, “OPCOM, do you have visual on a fast runner?”

“Sporadic sightings. Heat signatures appearing and disappearing too fast to zero in.”

Spalding pulled Apollo to his feet. “You bit?”

“Naw, man. That mug just got slobber all over me. Worse than a Mississippi leg hound.” Apollo wiped at the thick mucousy liquid covering his face and neck.

“I thought they were all locked up.” Spalding squared off on the big man.

“I swear to God, Spank. I thought they were.” Apollo stepped out from the containers and glanced down both lengths. “You and me can hunt this mutt. Let your squad finish cleaning house.”

Spalding nodded and looked up to the top of the containers where Delta Squad still waited. “Carry on with the mission. Clear out
all
of these containers. We’re going hunting.”

“Roger that.” Donnie slapped John across the shoulder. “You’re with me.”

Spalding turned back to Apollo. “Where do we start?”

“The warehouses. The big one is where we staged everything. The smaller one is where we kept the vehicles.” He broke off at a trot with Spalding hot on his heels.

“OPCOM, Bravo units, keep your eyes open. If you see a fast mover, drop it!” Spalding huffed into his mic. “Don’t wait for it to stop. And for the love of Pete, keep it off Delta Squad. They have their hands full.”

“Copy that, Team Leader.” Jericho cursed as he watched the cameras from the drone tilt and the altimeter numbers drop. They put the drone into a low circular orbit over the operation. “Keep that satellite hot. Watch the fences, I don’t want that thing escaping.”

Lamb and Jacobs had just flipped open a new access port and took aim when they heard a metallic clang. Lamb looked to Jacobs. “What was that?”

Jacobs shrugged. “Beats me, brother. I thought you did it.”

They turned and directed fire inside the container, dropping the wolves within when their earpieces came alive. “Delta Squad! Those containers are opening!”

All four members of Delta Squadron had a simultaneous ‘oh shit’ moment then turned and made their way to the ends of the containers they stood on. “Contain these things!” Donnie yelled as he opened fire.

Jacobs jumped to the next container and Lamb ran past him to take the container beyond. Both men squared up with the slowly opening doors and prepared to shoot anything that came out.

“Bravo Two, Bravo Three, I have no line of sight,” Tracy reported as he continued to shift his position in order to help cover the area. “Relocating.”

“Negative, Bravo Four!” Spalding yelled into his mic. “I need you to cover your package. You are our only eyes on the west side.”

Gus Tracy groaned as he settled back in.
Why the hell am I here if I can’t help?
“Roger that, Team Leader.” He placed his eye back to the reticle of his scope and covered his package area.
Please, if there’s a god; let that hairy bastard cross into my zone.

“Apollo reports there’s an electronic lock on those boxes. The controller is in the warehouse. The rogue must have punched the button.” Spalding’s voice sounded jumpy as he ran between the buildings and into the warehouse. “Be advised, our rogue wolf is most likely Sheridan.”

All of the operators felt a cold chill at the sound of the name. Each of them prayed for the opportunity to put the traitorous dog down before the night was over.

 

*****

 

“Tell me, my love, what are your plans for this Legion of yours?” Lilith ran a nail lazily along Samael’s back, tracing the outline of where his wings would soon burst forth.

“I have no plans for them.” He stretched and flexed his growing body. “They are yours to command. I promised them to you, remember?”

She paused and pressed her nail deeper into his flesh watching him twitch as she drew blood. “The same Legion you promised me before the humans killed me the first time?”

He grabbed her hand and pulled her bloody digit from his skin. Tossing her hand aside roughly he gazed at her sternly. “Yes, the very same. They weren’t ready to be commanded yet.”

“I see.” She licked the blood from her finger and smiled at him seductively. “Did you have to harden them for me?”

Samael snorted and rolled to his side to face her. “They had to be taught.”

“Taught? They’re Roman centurions, no?”

“And like all elite soldiers, they have to be broken and then built back up. Otherwise they have it in their heads that they don’t have to take orders from a woman.” He reached out and cupped her breast. “Even one as delicious as you.”

“You had to mold them to my service.” She rolled to her back and stared at the ceiling. “And to what purpose do I use these demons?”

Samael shrugged. “World domination, of course. Isn’t that what you’ve always wanted? To rule the world of men?”

She gave him a sideways look. “I’m supposed to take over this world with a thousand demons? Have you seen the weaponry that man has now? They have firearms that can shoot a hundred projectiles in a matter of moments.”

Samael chuckled as he stood and walked to the sink to relieve himself. “And you think the weapons of mortal men can harm my demons?”

“They have bombs that can level entire cities. I think they can destroy the bodies of your demons.”

“Then they simply move on to another body.” He strutted back to the bed and knelt at the edge. “For as long as there are men walking the earth, my demons have a body to inhabit.”


Your
demons?” She raised a brow at him.

“Your demons. I simply created them.” He fell to the bed and watched as she bounced next to him. “But I created them nearly perfect. They’re evil of heart, wicked of mind, capable of inflicting pain in ways that most have only imagined, and they are the most proficient of killers.”

Lilith considered his words and nodded. “And they’re all at my command.”

“Yes, they are.” He pulled her to him roughly and rolled her over. “Yours to command, to kill, to do with as you please.” He grabbed a double handful of her buttocks. “But if you allow another of them to touch you…I’ll kill you both myself.”

She smiled over her shoulder at him and gave him a sultry look. “Jealous, are we?”

“I don’t share.” He pulled her up to her knees and impaled her. “I told you. You belong to me.”

Lilith gripped the edge of the mattress and bit her lip. “Yes, m’lord. I am yours.”

“Only mine. None other.”

“Only yours. I am yours, completely.”

She watched his reflection in the glass of the office as he took her roughly and she fought back the urge to scream. He was no longer Damien. He appeared as he did all those centuries ago when he first appeared to her. When he first claimed her. When he first took her. She felt a pressure building from deep within and she inhaled sharply. Finally. A man worthy of her.

 

*****

 

Mick sat within the empty interrogation room and stared at the two way mirror on the other side of the room. He note the dark circles under his eyes and shook his head.
How the hell did I end up in chains?

Mick stared at his hands and controlled his shift, allowing a nail to grow and protrude from his finger. It wasn’t much and hopefully it was a small enough change that nobody would notice is they were watching. He glanced to the mirror and pretended to scratch at his wrist. He turned away and coughed lightly, trying to cover his mouth with his shackled hands.

Moving by feel, Mick worked his claw to the handcuffs holding his wrists and slipped the tip of his claw inside. He wiggled the hardened nail back and forth, praying that he could pick the lock. In moments, he felt the cuff give slightly, a light clicking sound catching his sensitive ears. He used his wrist against the cuff and felt it fall open. He held the cuff against his arm and worked his other nail into the other cuff. Working left handed wasn’t the easiest thing, but he managed to unlock that side as well.

Mick sat in his chair and continued to stare at the mirror.
No time like the present.
He let the cuffs slip from his arms then stood to make a break for the door. The shackles around his ankles tripped him, and he fell against the metal table with a loud bang. Mick jerked his eyes to the mirror then fell to the floor, working his claws into the shackles at his feet. After getting both loose, he rolled under the table and stood by the door.

Pressing his ear to the door, he listened intently for rushing footsteps; he heard nothing. He reached out tentatively and grasped the knob, turning it slightly. The door opened, and he stuck his head into the hallway. Nobody in sight, he slipped from the room and into the hall. He pulled the door shut behind him and made his way to the elevator at the end of the hall.

Mick stood at the elevator door and debated testing his luck. He glanced down the other hallway and noted a set of doors leading to a stairwell.
Probably safer
. He pushed open the door to the stairs and began working his way upward, listening intently for anybody entering the stairwell with him. As he reached the second floor he heard voices below him and the echoing sound of a door shut. Mick took the stairs two at a time and came to the first floor landing.
In for a penny…

He cracked open the door and stared into the barrel of a gun. Both hands went up in surrender and he stepped back. Gregory stepped into the stairwell with him and gave him a bored look. “Took you long enough.”

Mick was unsure the proper response. He debated trying to lie his way out but knew better. He slumped his shoulders and averted his eyes. “I didn’t know if anybody was watching.”

“We’re always watching. Cameras. Ever hear of them?” Gregory holstered his weapon and motioned for Mick to follow him. “You’re not under arrest, but Ms. Simmons is currently shifted downstairs in a silver lined cell. You have a few hours before they’re through.”

“They?” Mick fell into step behind Gregory. “Oh, you mean…her Fated…”

“We have three wolves shifted below decks.” Gregory went down a flight of stairs and opened the door, holding it for Mick. “We have a room ready for you, or if you prefer, you can rent a hotel room off base.”

Mick glanced at his watch then shook his head. “Just a place to get a little rest, I’ll be fine.”

Gregory walked him to the end of the hall and opened the door to a small room. “It’s not much, but it has the basics. Bed, table, chair, lamp. Latrine is at the end of the hall and clearly marked. There are showers there as well. Your bag is under your bunk.” He turned to Mick and gave him a look that Mick couldn’t discern. “Any questions?”

“None that I can think of.” Mick stepped into the room then turned back to Gregory. “What was with all the theatrics back there?”

Gregory paused. He gave Mick a serious stare that made the man wish he’d not asked. “I wasn’t joking when I said that we lost a lot of good people in those attacks. There are those who want the heads of anybody and everybody who might be even remotely involved.”

“So it wasn’t theatrics.”

“It was a test of sorts. If you had tried anything aggressive, you would have been shot.”

Mick gave him a crooked grin. “What if I’d taken your weapon? You couldn’t have shot me then.”

“My weapon? It wasn’t loaded.” Gregory pulled the pistol and cleared the chamber, showing that the magazine and chamber were both empty. “Just in case you
had
gotten my weapon. But there were two security guards a few feet away that you couldn’t see with fully loaded M-16s ready to open fire.”

Mick swallowed hard. “Gotcha, mate. Good thing I have a nice, wide yellow streak, eh?”

Gregory raised a brow at him. “Somehow, I doubt that.” He turned to leave, “Have a good night, sir.”

“Yeah. You, too.” Mick pushed the door shut and fell onto the narrow bed. “Holy shit. What have I gotten myself into?”

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