Urban Mythic by C. Gockel & Other Authors - HTML preview

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Chapter Three

Wary of being tailed by the hunters, Victoria traveled south for several blocks and then doubled back. Heading north, she located a drainage canal and left paved surfaces behind. Walking single file, they followed a southeast route across rough terrain and woodsy growth. Even on two feet, their movements were swift and silent, well adapted to the natural environment.

Jasper remained uncharacteristically somber. After a half hour, the silence apparently became more than he could handle. The boy cleared his throat.

Suppressing a smile, she mustered a stern tone. "Yes?"

"Victory?" He pitched her nickname high, turning it into a question.

"What is it, Jasper?" Ducking to avoid the bare branches of a bush, she cast a curious glance over her shoulder. "We're almost there."

He produced a sound in his throat, a cross between a cough and a huff. "I know that."

She glanced heavenward. As much as she adored Jasper's bold, brash nature, there were moments when he drove her up the wall. Of course he does. Far be it for me to tell a teenage boy anything.

Freya laughed. Victoria, be nice.

I'm always nice.

Except when you're not.

"I smell coyotes," Jasper continued. "Are there shifters here?"

"There's a band in the area." Victoria scented the smaller canines also.

"Won't they be pissed that we're violating their territory?"

"Maybe. Probably. Who knows what coyotes think?"

Veering away from the creek, she trudged up the embankment. Generally, coyotes weren't a threat to their much larger cousins, but an entire band might just take on a lone she-wolf and a juvenile male if their den was threatened. She didn't want to risk straying too close to their home.

Once they reached the top of the hill, they hopped a chain link fence and landed back on paved city streets. Aging apartment buildings, decaying commercial complexes, and houses with weed-choked yards composed the area.

Jasper rotated in a slow circle, surveying their surroundings. From the distant, confused look on his face, he had no clue where they were.

She took the lead. "This way."

Once they joined up with the other members of their pack, the threat the coyotes presented lessened greatly. Unless the band was huge, they were no match for even her small werewolf pack. She hoped they were smart enough to continue hiding. She and her people had been in town for a day, and they didn't want any trouble. They planned to move on immediately.

Departure grew even more urgent since hunters had found them.

Freya's brightness touched her mind. The little boy needs your help, Victoria.

I haven't forgotten Michael, My Lady. Can you tell me where he is?

Perhaps.

Images flickered through Victoria's mind. A cold, cavernous place that might have been a basement. Or a dungeon? Cages suspended upon thick chains hung from the ceiling. Sour dankness flooded her nostrils. The steady drip drip drip of water feeding stagnant puddles echoed through the emptiness. Most disturbing, the mewled cries of frightened children calling for help.

Terrible dread coalesced in Victoria's gut. There's more than one child?

I believe so.

Who is the child thief?

In response, Victoria received another nightmarishly surreal vision. A sinister figure that stood upright on ungulate legs and had many attributes of a beast. Flared horns. Black fur. Cloven hooves.

She huffed. I'm hunting a giant goat?

The stream of pictures stopped. I don't know what it's called. I'm sorry.

Michael's still alive?

For now. You must hurry, Victoria.

"I'm hurrying."

Glancing over his shoulder, Jasper shot her a curious look. "Are you talking to Freya?"

Victoria bobbed her head once. Unfazed, he shushed. Her people knew her well. Her occasional, inexplicable outbursts were par for the course.

They entered a poor residential neighborhood adjacent to an industrial district. A rubber recycling facility loomed over the surrounding area like the silhouette of a silent giant. Stacks of black tires rose higher than the ten-foot chain link fence that surrounded the complex. The dense column of black smoke indicated the presence of an active incinerator. Thick smog of tarry residue, pesticides, and other gasified toxins hung over the area. To their sensitive noses, the air smelled and tasted like death.

"It stinks." Gagging, Jasper covered his nose and mouth and jaywalked across the busy street.

Victoria followed without protest. Gathering her resolve, she broached the matter utmost on her mind. Goddess, why didn't you warn me Jake Barrett would be here today?

She waited, but no answer was forthcoming.

Goddess? At last, she sighed and shelved the matter. Freya wasn't obligated to provide explanations. Victoria's independent streak made blind obedience difficult. She'd been a priestess since she'd turned fourteen, but still she struggled with the obligation to maintain an unquestioning faith in her goddess.

As they cut across a gas station parking lot, Victoria's phone rang. She dug the device from her pocket. The pack had taken to using cheap prepaid mobiles so they couldn't be traced. "Hello?"

"We're gettin' antsy." Rand Scott's lazy Southern drawl filled her ear. "Where the hell are y’all?"

"Turn around, worry wart."

A few hundred feet away, Rand Scott, Victoria's second-in-command, spun on his prosthesis leg. Over seven feet in height and at a weight in excess of three hundred pounds, the enormous Beta wolf boasted a build like a grizzly. He bristled from head to toe with fiery ginger hair, including a thistle of facial growth that obscured his lips. His thick eyebrows formed a solid unibrow. Years before, his leg had been severed in a motorcycle accident.

"Aww, hell!" Rand bellowed.

Laughing, she waved and ended the call.

Still holding his phone, Rand's hand dropped. His ruddy face skewed into a fierce scowl, but his light eyes gleamed with mirth. Allegedly, he was the runt of the litter. To hear him tell it, all four of his brothers were bigger and meaner. One was even the Alpha of a prominent pack. Yet for all his attempts to project a fearsome demeanor, the man had the disposition of a Labrador retriever.

"Sorry we're late," she said, walking toward him.

"About damn time," Rand grumbled. The molasses quality of his voice removed all the bite from his words.

Jasper shot past Victoria, sprinting ahead. "We ran into hunters! We barely made it out alive. You won't believe..."

Victoria muffled a snarl of irritation and continued at a sedate pace. She should have warned the teenager to let her break the news, but thoughts of the hunters and the missing boy had distracted her.

Rand's head cocked inquisitively. "True story? You ran into hunters? Or is the boy just screwin' with us?"

She shielded her eyes and peered up at Rand. "True story. Let's have everyone gather round so I can tell the tale once instead of several times. We're pressed for time. I'm gonna need everyone's help."

Jasper's shout attracted the pack's attention. They gathered in the center of the convenience store parking lot that served as their temporary base of operations. With funds being so tight, the seven of them were living out of their two vehicles. Victoria performed a headcount and confirmed everyone was present and accounted for.

Aside from herself and Rand, five others composed their group. Paul and Sylvie Thornton were a mated couple in their sixties. Sixteen-year-old Morena was a year and three months older than Jasper, but the girl never allowed him to forget it. Finally, pregnant gray wolf Sophia, the only non-shifter in their ranks.

They assembled between the parked cars. Rand assumed a position to Victoria's right, standing with his arms crossed over his chest. She wasn't sure whether he did so deliberately, but she appreciated the display of solidarity. Aside from Rand, she didn't face any potential challengers for her position as Alpha from within the pack.

Sylvie and Paul also stood. The Native American woman had a tall, strong stature and kept her gray hair pulled back into a neat ponytail. She acted as their Skald, the keeper of tradition, and was a devout follower of Freya. Her husband was a battle-scarred warrior who had lost a hand and a leg in conflicts past.

Morena sat beside Jasper on the lowered tailgate of Paul's truck. The teenagers dangled their long legs, feet swinging frantically back and forth. Sophia also occupied the bed of the pickup. The gray wolf lay with her head resting on her front paws. She had lost her mate in the same massacre that had slaughtered most of the Storm pack. Werewolves often took regular humans or wolves as their mates, and the pups she carried in her belly were the product of such a union. They had the potential to grow into normal wolves or shifters. Each one carried the shape changer genes which could be passed on to future generations. They were the future of the pack.

Victoria told the whole story. She began with the appearance of the restless ghost-mother and went on to share the plight of the missing boy. Then she recounted their confrontation with the hunters and the escape that followed. The others listened intently. Even the rambunctious teenagers held their questions until she finished.

When she got to the exciting part with the shooting, Jasper smirked and gloated while Morena gasped and clutched his arm. The pair sat close, thighs touching. Too close. Victoria frowned. They'd have to be chaperoned closely to ensure their relationship progressed no further. At their age, infatuation was easily mistaken for true love. Casual sex could result in the pair forming an unbreakable mate bond. In her estimate, they were too immature to enter into such an immense commitment

Rand waited until she finished her explanation, then asked, "Any idea how Jake found us so quick?"

Victoria noted how easily Rand used their enemy's first name. Not Barrett. Not the Hunter King. Jake. He harbored no fear of the vaunted hunter, and she longed to get him alone to question his attitude.

Of course, Rand had worked with the hunters hundreds of times. In Phoenix, vampire incursions were frequent and vicious. For over thirty years, wolves and hunters had been staunch allies. The two disparate groups often worked together to defend their mutual and overlapping territories.

"We discarded our cell phones. Changed the plates on the cars. Stopped using credit,” Paul said, frowning. "What did we miss?"

Victoria cleared her throat. "I'm not sure we missed anything. When he first saw me, he looked surprised. I don't think he knew we were here."

"Es obvio, ¿no? Freya sold us out." Morena sat with her back rigid, her legs no longer swinging. Her dark eyes glittered, and her chin jutted. Whether her words were true or not, the girl's accusatory tone was completely unacceptable.

Jasper recoiled from her as if struck.

Victoria opened her mouth to deliver a sharp reprimand, but Sylvie beat her to it. "Morena, bite your tongue! How dare you speak such blasphemy."

Their communion surged with the disapproval of the adult wolves. Rand and Paul contributed their full strength to the consensus, but they left the decision to the Alpha. With minimal effort, Victoria nurtured the discordant note until it reached a crescendo. A nudge sent it crashing over Morena.

Before the will of her elders, the teenager's defiance crumpled. Her gaze dropped to the ground, and her shoulders slumped. Her voice quavered as she apologized. "I'm sorry. I'm scared. I just want to go home, but there's no home to go to anymore."

Victoria traded a sorrowful glance with Sylvie. Morena had lost her parents and her older brother in the Phoenix massacre.

They'd all lost someone.

Sylvie approached Morena and placed her arm over the girl's shoulder. "Shhh, it's okay, sweetie. I know you're upset but you can't lash out like that, especially against our goddess."

Red with embarrassment, Jasper scooted off the tailgate and edged toward Paul. All three of the pack's males suddenly seemed to find the sky interesting. Victoria wasn't much more comfortable. Morena's outburst mirrored her private doubts all too closely.

"We should talk about splitting up again," Victoria said. "It would be in everyone's best interests."

Heads jerked her way, expressions ranging from shock to outrage.

Rand stomped his good foot. "No. No fucking way. I promised your father I'd look out for you."

"Listen, please." Victoria held up staying hands, and at the same time, exerted her will over the pack bond to soothe volatile tempers and ease fears. "We all know Jake Barrett is only after me. If we approach one of the other packs, I'm sure they'd accept refugees. Rand, your brother is Alpha of–"

Rand growled deep in his chest. "Don't mention that bastard to me! Ever."

Fuming, Victoria shut her mouth. Stupid, stubborn male egos would be the end of them all. "Fine. There are other packs. The children would be safe. Sophia could have her puppies in a proper den..."

Cradling the back of Morena's head, Sylvie glared at her. "Our answer now is the same as it was last week, Victoria Svana Storm. We won't be leaving you, and you won't be leaving us. We're family."

United in their resolve, the pack put their foot down, a force to be reckoned with. They were solidly loyal to her. Bashful pleasure bubbled up inside of her. Despite everything, a smile tugged at the corners of Victoria's mouth. She might be Alpha, but her father had always said a wise leader bowed to the will of his people.

She schooled her voice to a let's-get-going tone and clapped her hands together. "Well, since that's settled, let's figure out how we're going to locate Michael. It'll be faster if we split up. I want to check out the library to see if there's anything in the local newspaper about his disappearance. Showing up and asking at the police station would attract too much suspicion. Everyone else should stay together."

A warm blast of approval radiated from the others. Thankfully, her people were a practical lot. They returned to business as usual.

Sylvie patted Morena on the back and then tilted away. "We should all stay together. Our strength is in our numbers." She clenched her arms across her chest.

As quick as a whip, Morena leapt onto the lowered tailgate and Jasper returned to his spot beside her.

Paul itched at the gray scruff on his jaw with his good hand. "Victoria's making the best compromise she can between protecting the pack and trying to save this boy."

"I don't object to saving the boy, but we have our own children to look after." Sylvie sent a pointed glance toward Morena and Jasper. "We have another month or so before Sophia births her cubs. She and her pups will need a den to hole up in for the first month. It will be another two months before they are able to travel."

"I haven't forgotten," Victoria said softly. "I will find a safe place for the pups. I promise."

"I vote with Victory." Absently, the burly redhead reached down and scratched the top of Sophia's head.

Sophia opened her mouth wide and whined with pleasure. Then the gray wolf rolled onto her back for belly rubs.

Victoria scowled. "This isn't a democracy."

"It's a Victorocracy!" Morena piped up with a bright, false smile. Dark blues streaked her aura, blending into stormy gray clouds.

Jasper dug his elbow into her side. "That's stupid!"

Morena punched him in the arm. "Is not! Eres estúpido!"

"Is so!" Jasper took a playful swing at the girl.

Laughing, the pair tumbled across the truck bed, wrestling for dominance. Morena and Jasper shared the lowest status within the pack: Omega, the least dominant wolves. Their youth kept them from establishing a respectable rank in the pack. A perpetual state of rivalry existed between them.

Watching the teens, Victoria rolled her eyes and smothered a smile. She did her best to appear disapproving, but her amusement spread and touched the others. Soon, every adult grinned while the oblivious teens squabbled.

"Look, I understand the situation is dire." Victoria met the gazes of each individual in turn, but she addressed them as a whole. "The hunters have us far outnumbered and outgunned. If the pack is to survive, we have to avoid any more confrontations, even though it goes against our nature. We are descended from the great wolf-god Fenrir. We are Vikings."

"Aye, we are." Rand flashed a fierce smile that showed off all his teeth. He pumped his fist in a punching gesture, reinforcing the message. His bolstered morale blended seamlessly with hers.

"We are also Blackfoot," Sylvie said, making a gesture inclusive of both she and her husband.

Paul rumbled deep in his throat. "First and foremost, we're wolves. Sylvie, my love, we are an honorable people. At the behest of our goddess, this spirit has sought our help to save her son. If we abandon a helpless child, we are no better than cowards."

Sylvie stared into her mate's eyes. Her face flushed, then a reluctant smile curved her lips. "You are right, my love. We must save the child."

Suspicion edged Victoria's thoughts. Sylvie was seldom swayed from her views. She wondered if the Skald had played devil's advocate on purpose. Whatever the case, the weight on her shoulders lifted, and she breathed easier. Of course, she could have issued a command, but handing down orders did not suit her. She preferred to have her pack's cooperation and consent.

"Can I come along?" Jasper squirmed, giving the impression he might burst at any second.

Morena elbowed him in the side. "No fair. I want to go!"

Jasper slapped her arm away. "I called it first!"

"I'm older," Morena shot back.

Victoria frowned. "No, it's too dangerous. Both of you are staying here."

"That's not fair!" Denied the opportunity to prove himself, Jasper succumbed to anger and disappointment. His volatile emotions roiled through the empathic connection.

Rand rumbled with deep laughter. "I'll go with you."

"That works." Victoria agreed with an eager gleam in her blue eyes. If she had to have a wingman, she preferred Rand. Even with a prosthetic leg, the brawny redhead fought better than both of the teen werewolves put together.

"Good, we're agreed." Victoria addressed the entire pack. "Rand and I will start with the library and then proceed from there. Everyone else needs to stick together and maintain a low profile. Stay close to the vehicles. If things go south, be ready to leave at a moment's notice. If we get separated, we'll meet up in Santa Fe."