Undead on Arrival Read online

  In the blink of an eye it was all over. Deafening gunfire echoed all around him. A tranquilizer dart filled with meds whizzed through his coat but didn’t nick his skin. Doc had blocked the light and cast a shadow.

  That was all he’d needed to break free and be gone.

  She sat across from Silver Hawk at the ancient, knotty-pine table in his cabin. Pack enforcers surrounded the house, guarding their remaining leadership. A dangerous threat of war was in the air. Werewolves from the Southeast Asian Clan had breeched territorial lines to set up an unauthorized hunt against the alpha’s she-Shadow mate—long before the UCE tribunal or trial, long before Hunter’s possible contagion turn—and they’d aligned somehow with demon forces. A demon-infected she-wolf was leading the hunt.

  Old wounds revealed themselves as memories of past slights returned with a vengeance. Dissension rippled through the pack. Were it not for their respect of Silver Hawk, chaos would have hit the streets of New Orleans in the form of a swift retaliatory strike.

  Sasha rubbed her palms down her face as she studied the lines in Silver Hawk’s weathered brow. Bits of the vision began to finally fit into place, like the tumblers of a lock coming together to open a secret vault.

  Slowly, with a heavy heart, she slid his old amulet toward him across the wooden surface. It was the one Hunter normally wore. As she stared at it for a moment and then looked up at the elderly Shadow Wolf, his brown face seemed so much like the amber piece with hard-etched lines that told a mysterious story of life, death, time . . . Her soul ached that she had to hurt him and cut him deeply with the truth.

  “I took a spirit walk earlier today,” she said quietly as Silver Hawk took up the amulet but didn’t immediately put it on. “I know Doc was here . . . I can still pick up his scent. Where is he?”

  “With Hunter as part of the moon watch,” Silver Hawk said in a sad tone, glancing out the window as he finally looped the amulet over his head.

  “Good,” Sasha said, just above a murmur. She paused and waited until Silver Hawk’s eyes met hers again. “I’m going to share some very hard truth with you, and then I will ask you to do the same.”

  He nodded, but didn’t commit. “Some of that truth does not belong to me.”

  She nodded. “Same here, but we’ll make do . . . as pack leadership, as friends, and two who understand a heavy heart.”

  He closed his eyes and nodded. “All right. Tell me, and I will tell you.”

  Sasha leaned across the table and gathered his hands within hers, reveling in the leathery, kind warmth that emanated from his ancient, healing hands. “Your daughter loved another man . . .”

  Silver Hawk nodded, but kept his gaze lowered to stare at their joined hands. “This I can believe. The beta was cruel, not just physically but also emotionally, once he’d won her.” The old man looked up, his eyes burning, the edges of his irises beginning to change into wolf’s. “I had never known hate until then. But she wouldn’t leave him.”

  “She couldn’t,” Sasha said softly. “By then, she was pregnant.”

  Silver Hawk drew a deep breath and released it slowly. “I know. I told her it didn’t matter. She and I would raise her child, but—”

  “It wasn’t her husband’s,” Sasha said as calmly as possible, squeezing Silver Hawk’s hands to steady him when he stopped breathing. “She was afraid, and ashamed, and didn’t know what to do.”

  When Silver Hawk tried to draw away, Sasha tightened her grip. “She loved you so much, she couldn’t let scandal rip you to shreds.”

  “I wouldn’t have cared,” he murmured thickly. “She was all I had left in the world . . . my heart.”

  Sasha nodded. “But she respected you as not just her father, but also who you were to the entire North American Clan . . . this would have caused an international incident.”

  “Who,” Silver Hawk said, drawing away from Sasha’s hold with a hard break and then standing. “Tell me not those who took her life!” He went to the window and then turned slowly, his eyes flickering dangerously near a wolf transformation. “Tell me who fathered my grandson, who is linked to my pack by blood and deceit.”

  Sasha was on her feet and had rounded the table to stand before the pain-racked old man. “Use your shaman sight. Go with me now in spirit to the edges of the shadow lands. Let her tell you. It is not what you think.”

  She held out her hands to him, waiting for the rage to subside, waiting for him to be escorted to the truth. After what felt like a long time, a pair of callused hands slid into hers. A pair of haunted eyes stared at her, issuing silent thanks for being there and not making him have to face this alone.

  Wolf eyes set in human faces and backlit by inner moonlight met. Amulets warmed and glowed. The shadow paths opened around them where they stood. Secrets whispered until the spirits parted the mist. A shy young woman came near, her beautiful face streaked with tears. Her voice was as soft as her doeskin dress. Her eyes were pained, but she never looked away as her father swallowed away his tears.

  “My husband beat me, and I knew you would eventually kill him. I didn’t want that; it would fracture the pack, but I had to get away that night. He was insane, furious that his marriage to me didn’t elevate his rank and had still left him locked out of the UCE Conference. All betas had been left at home in the pack lands. Only enforcers could go. I was not that. Although I was your daughter, I had married beneath my station—so I was left home to be beaten while you weren’t around. As it got worse, I finally ran that night. I had my mother’s amulet . . . I was a child of alpha Shadows. I could cross realms he dared not. And I exited in a tea garden, shaken, beaten, afraid . . . and that’s when I was found and helped by the most unexpected source of tenderness.”

  The spirit looked away as though seeing it all in her head as she spoke. Sasha could feel Silver Hawk’s hands tremble within her own, and understood the emotion only too well.

  “He was oddly tall for his region,” the apparition said in a faint murmur. “And he proudly explained that as a blend of peoples—from the Hindu Kush to Mongolia, Korea, and the highlands of China—he fit no stereotype. I saw only that he was regal, majestic, and kind. We talked into the night about his fascination with our mixture of French, Haitian, African, a world of people and cultures under one human skin. How the hatred was so insane, how there needed to be accord among nations. We sipped tea and shared stories—he fed me, gave my weary spirit sanctuary, and then touched the bruises on my face as though he’d just seen them until I cried.”

  She looked at her father, her eyes pleading for understanding. “And he vowed to protect me till death and beyond, to never make my father have to give his life in my stead—he would do that for me. That’s when he traveled with me through the dangerous shadow paths to confront the man who’d beaten me. My husband, the man you warned me not to marry, was threatened by one who didn’t come under the laws of our pack or our lands. He was told that if he touched me again, he would die. He never laid a hand on me again. I never let him have me again, as only one warrior was worthy of that, but by the time I was ready to seek divorce I was already with child. He never hit me again.”

  “But he also never lifted a hand again to help save your life,” Silver Hawk whispered thickly.

  “No, Father, he didn’t.”

  “The huge black male was trying to stop the murder,” Sasha added quietly.

  Silver Hawk stared at her as images careered through his mind. “I now see. I shot the wrong wolf . . . perhaps also shot a man who’d already seen vengeance. Then again, I have no regrets about that latter issue, regardless.”

  “The golden-amber one, the wife . . . That’s who killed your daughter, and that’s the one who got away again,” Sasha said, squeezing Silver Hawk’s hands. “Your son is a blend of two clans. The Werewolf Southeast Asian Clan and North American Shadow Clan.”

  “He is the one they will one day call Shogun’s half brother,” the spirit murmured. “That is why my son is so susceptible to th
e contagion. Forgive me, Father, for the dishonor. The weakness to the dread disease comes from the Werewolf line . . . as you know, our Shadow Wolf blood has long been immune to it. Hence I now personally understand why marriages across the lines were forbidden.”

  “Oh, daughter . . .” Silver Hawk’s voice trailed off in a pain-filled whisper.

  “Father, I know that among our people, to be with a Werewolf is worse than ever being with a beta of our own kind. But my heart crossed the bridge into his world, just as his left his people to meet mine. I could not tell you this while I lived. My child, my son, I wanted to hide from this disgrace behind a loveless marriage. I had not the courage for truth about this. My shame has followed me beyond the grave. Forgive me for the heartbreak I’ve caused you.”

  “You are wolf and human. You are my heart and my soul, just as Hunter is. There is nothing you could do that would dishonor me. Let your spirit rest free,” Silver Hawk said quietly. “We will make peace, if peace can be made.”

  “I don’t know how possible that is,” Sasha said quickly, hating to disturb the deeply private communion, but needing Silver Hawk to understand the risks. “Lei is in cahoots with her mother. The wife didn’t die when you shot her years ago, just as I only wounded her now. She’s still feeding after all these years behind demon doors. Our only chance at dealing with a rational party from their ranks is Shogun.” Sasha’s eyes widened as the implications slammed into her brain. That option might have been left as a burned bridge at a teahouse!

  “Then we must set up a meeting,” Silver Hawk said calmly, his tone resigned. “If we can send healing to Hunter, he must sit down with Shogun, brother-to-brother, just as the prophecy foretold: When the wolf would be one, brought together by one born of them, yet made . . . strengths of both warring wolves sealed in one skin, with one heart, therein lies peace. That bridge between clans is Hunter. The one born of them, yet made, is you, Sasha. You have brought the two brothers together. They must meet in peace. I am an old man now—I have made many mistakes born of anger and war. Now is the season to be still.”

  The spirit nodded, beginning to fade, but her eyes met Sasha’s with an unspoken understanding. She clearly knew the warring wolves sealed in one skin also meant the conflict going one within a woman trapped between two brothers. Panic made Sasha’s hands moist within Silver Hawk’s hold.

  “We have to alert Doc,” Sasha said after a moment. “If one of Hunter’s gene sets is imprinted, if it can’t kick in when there’s been trauma to the primary one . . .” Her words trailed off as the image of the huge Werewolf male that was Hunter’s real father jumped into her head. “Oh, my God . . . his father said he’d been poisoned. It makes sense that his Shadow blood couldn’t beat this thing. He wasn’t pure Shadow, and whatever they tainted the vials with—most likely contagion—was weakening that one barrier till it collapsed. He’s been shooting up with a dose of diseased Werewolf blood without even knowing it!”

  “Father . . . you left the vials just inside the door of their room while they were sleeping,” Hunter’s mother said, disappearing as she looked at Silver Hawk with sad eyes. “His mind saw you when you called him awake . . . but never once saw the sleight of hand. Beware those who call themselves friends.”

  Silver Hawk again closed his eyes and shook his head. “We will need proof of this deed, just as we will need proof of Hunter and Shogun’s combined heritage. None of it will be accepted at the tribunal without hard evidence. A shadow land spirit walk is not something any of the judges can do to verify authenticity, thus it is inadmissible.”

  Sasha nodded. “I have a blood sample from Shogun that can give proof of parentage. Now all we have to do is prove a poisoning.”

  The elderly shaman opened his eyes and gazed at Sasha. “I kept one vial of medicine that I gave back to Doc, just in case it got bad and Hunter came here. He’s with Hunter now at the containment cells. If the medicine is tainted, we can show that . . . but they may think that I did it to save my own grandson.”

  “Maybe,” Sasha said. “But we might be able to build a case on enough circumstantial evidence to discredit anyone who might have poisoned Hunter’s meds. If we can initially buy some more time with that, I’ve got a lab team that can give hard, indisputable data. There are eyewitnesses to Lei’s treason with a demon-wolf—her own mother.”

  “You don’t understand. None of those who actually saw the infected she-wolf will be allowed to testify. Lei’s treason is unsubstantiated unless there’s an eyewitness not from this pack.”

  “Damn . . .” Sasha blew a stray wisp of hair up off her forehead with a puff of breath. “All right. Then I’m going to have to draw that bitch out of hiding in New Orleans before it’s all over, or go in behind a demon door and drag her mangy carcass out into the streets. Either way is fine by me.”

  Silver Hawk stared at Sasha, his eyes asking what he never verbalized: How had she gotten the blood sample from Shogun? Just that quickly they were no longer in the shadow lands but back in the cabin where the vision quest had begun. The unspoken question hung in the air like a silent partner. Sasha stared out at the moon.

  “I should take you to Doc now . . . and to Hunter,” Silver Hawk said, his weary gaze sliding away from Sasha. “And I will make my best healing medicine with the Great Spirit. That is all I can do at this point.”

  Hunter lowered his nose to the ground. Fresh tracks, some human, some wolf. He separated out the scents. His grandfather. Sasha. Two dead Werewolf females. Two heavier ones, thicker in body and build. Sulfur trail meant they’d come by way of demon doors. He studied the strange two-paw tracks left by the demon-infected wolf that walked on hind legs.

  A new snarl filled his throat as the scent flashed back memories in cascading horror within his mind. Spent shells littered the forest floor. Blood painted new grass and leaves crimson. Sasha’s blood wasn’t amid the carnage, nor was his grandfather’s. They’d been victorious. They’d walked away on two human feet. That’s all he needed to know.

  He stared at the demon door within the shadows. His own pack would come for him through the shadow lands, not understanding. There wasn’t time to explain while the trail was hot. Someone had to stop the infected she-alpha hunting the she-Shadows of his pack. This was old history that had to end this generation.

  Hunter threw his head back and howled.

  “Look,” Bradley said in a tight British brogue, dropping all formality as he walked around the wrecked room. “We’ve got maybe ten minutes, max, before local police get here—and that’s only because NOPD lost eighty percent of its staff after Katrina and still hasn’t rebuilt. Any so-called security guards from the hospital aren’t equipped to deal with M16 gunfire report, and aren’t coming up here. So I suggest that we figure out where we’re gonna set up shop next, people. I think we can safely assume that we’ll be booted out of this facility, at night, under a full moon, with very pissy Werewolves afoot in search of our missing Captain!”

  Fisher rubbed his palms down his sweaty face and looked at Woods.

  “Okay, we head for the truck after we explain whatever we have to tell the locals, and we give Cap the bill when she gets back here,” Woods said. He glanced around. “Me and Fish picked up a UAV, micro version, from the base. We can send up that unmanned aerial vehicle, which is mounted with seven cameras.” He looked at Winters. “It’s got synthetic aperture radar with resolution down to four inches. Should be able to spot a field mouse as incoming with that.”

  Winters nodded and stared at Bradley. “Yeah. It uses microwave versus photos. If they’ve got a laptop with software in the truck, I can watch our backs with it while we head to NORAD.”

  “We picked up all the new shit that Doc authorized to be shipped in for our use only,” Fisher said, glancing around the small, shaken team. “Sonic guns that give those bastards with extra-sensitive hearing instant migraines. This thing called the Dazzler—which has lights that cause temporary blindness. And a SWORDS—a strategic weapons operation
deployment system.”

  “In English, Fish,” Clarissa said, losing patience. She dragged her fingers through her hair and stared at him hard.

  “Small robot on tractor wheels . . . three feet tall, machine-gun turret on top—runs by laptop and two joysticks. Better than sending a man in the dark to get his face ripped off. Even got a few uniforms with GPS embedded that monitors a soldier’s bio, so if we’ve gotta do caves, tunnels, swamps on this frickin’ detail to go in and lay down some IEDs, hey.”

  “I don’t know about improvised explosive devices or all that other technological crap,” Bradley said, walking to the center of the room and standing in the circle he’d made. “Call me old-fashioned, but when all else failed, the wolfsbane worked. You gentlemen can have at the conventional weapons. Give me a moment to gather up more forest-friendly deterrents and a little brick dust.”

  “Stop being such a smacked ass, Bradley,” Clarissa said, clearly annoyed. “We’re all freaked out. I am. At least you didn’t have them circle you, single you out, and open their jaws over your fucking head! So cut the misery. We work as a team. Before we leave, I’m taking saliva samples out of my hair, off the floor, looking for wolf hairs, anything I can put under a microscope for the future so we can build biometric dossiers on all these creatures. The National Civilian Labs might also be able to play a role—because who knows what they’ve inadvertently cataloged?”

  “What the f . . .” Woods’s voice trailed off as he stared up at the ceiling, drawing the attention of the others.

  Small colored lights like multihued fireflies gathered and dispersed like dancing dust motes in the moonlight.

  “That’s so—”

  “Shush!” Woods said quickly, cutting off Fisher’s comment. “Listen!”

  Silence settled on the group. All eyes followed the lights, which seemed to be gathering closer into one small miasma of glowing particles.