Wolf Island (18 page)

By concentrating on my senses of smell and hearing, I follow the movements of those nearest us. They’re lining the tight corridors,
checking weapons, preparing to blast wildly at anything that comes through. They’re frustrated. If the designers had built
slots into these walls, as they did in those at the sides, they could have mowed us down. But an assault like this was never
taken into account. The outer wall was meant to hold. The plan, if it fell, was to block off all other entrances to the compound,
then escape by boats stored at the rear of the complex. After all, there was no way brainless werewolves could short-circuit
the security systems.

The soldiers could flee before we invade, and make a break for freedom. But they’ve been ordered to stand and fight. Juni
doesn’t care about losses. It will probably amuse her to watch them die.

She’s still there. She has a distinctive, rotting stench. She’s waiting for us deep within the compound. I don’t know why.
Perhaps she thinks she can get the better of me. She’s a fool if she does.

A couple of werewolves howl and others take up the cry. They’re growing impatient. They aren’t ready for mutiny yet, but they’re
not far from it. Bending close to Timas, I growl, “A few more minutes. Then things get nasty.”

“You can’t rush a job like this,” Timas replies calmly. “I’m going as fast as I can.”

“Go faster,” I snarl. “When they turn, I won’t be able to hold them. I’ll be the first they attack, but you won’t be far behind.”

“Then we’d better hope time is on our side,” Timas chuckles, never looking up.

“Leave him alone,” Meera snaps. “You’re distracting him.”

“No, he isn’t,” Timas says. “I can multitask.”

“Do you think they know we’re here?” Prae asks, pressing an ear to the wall.

I frown at such a ludicrous question, then remember that she doesn’t have the same sharp senses I do. “They know,” I tell
her. “They’re waiting for us.”

“Our forces will be cut down,” she says quietly, studying the werewolves. “It will be a massacre.”

“Many will die,” I agree, “but not all. We’ll overwhelm them.”

“But at such a cost…,” Prae sighs. “Is it worth it? Maybe we should just take the boats and get out of here.”

“They’d call in fresh troops,” Meera says. “They’d fire on the werewolves from the air and wipe them out — they couldn’t afford
to leave them alive now that we know about Wolf Island. At least this way the beasts have a fair chance.”

“I hate this,” Prae mutters. “It was never meant to end in a bloodbath. I wanted to save lives, not be responsible for wholesale
slaughter.”

“Then you shouldn’t have become a Lamb,” Meera says.

Before Prae can respond, Timas whistles softly. “No more time for bickering. The gates of hell are about to open for business.”

He presses a button. Panels slide apart. Werewolves howl and surge forward. A mass of guns discharge at the same time and
the air turns red with blood.

D
OZENS
are slaughtered within seconds, torn to ragged, fleshy shreds by the frenzied fire of Juni Swan’s soldiers. But the stench
of blood only drives the rest of us wilder. We push on without pause, leaping over the jerking bodies of the dead and dying,
ignoring the peril, the bullets, the fallen. Not a single beast turns and runs.

I’m among the pack, unable to restrain myself, risking all just to be one of the first to claim a human heart. It’s crazy.
I should hold back and let them do my dirty work. But for a few mad moments I lose control. I press forward with the others,
howling and bellowing, as much of a target as any other werewolf.

Then we’re on the terrified soldiers, hacking at them, tearing guns from their hands, chowing down on their sweet, soft flesh
and oh-so-chewable bones. Human screams are added to the cacophony of gunfire and howls. The line disintegrates beneath us.
I’m past it before I know what’s happening, staring at an empty corridor. I have to stop, swivel, and dive back into the fray
to claim my victims and be part of the barbaric, bloody feast.

I don’t know how much time passes. It could be seconds or minutes. All I’m aware of is the killing and feasting. My world
becomes an endless pool of thick, salty blood, springy flesh, brittle bones, juicy inner organs. I butcher heartlessly, wolfishly.
I don’t know how many. Bodies are tossed around and pulled apart like chicken wings at a party.

When the bloodlust finally passes — when I’ve had my fill — my senses return. I spit out a mouthful of soggy flesh. I’m drenched
in blood, my ears and head ringing with noise. I stare at my red, twisted hands and wait to feel disgust and shame. But nothing
hits me. I’m neither appalled nor shocked. In this new form I have no delusions. I’m a killer. Whether a killer of demons,
werewolves, or humans… no matter. I’ve butchered with magic in the Demonata universe. Now I’ve murdered with my hands and
teeth here. I feel no more for the people I’ve slaughtered than the demons I fried. To a beast like me, there’s no real difference.

I look around for Meera, Timas, and Prae. I find them standing in a doorway, transfixed, faces pale, eyes awash with horror.
Even the usually unflappable Timas Brauss looks disturbed. I sneer at their expressions, wipe a hand across my lips, then
lick them clean.

“Sorry I didn’t offer you anything to eat,” I chuckle hoarsely.

“Grubbs… you… this…” Meera can’t find words to express what she feels.

“I did what I had to,” I grunt. “It was a fair fight.”

“But you enjoyed it!” Meera gasps. “You laughed as you killed. The way you drank…”

“I was thirsty,” I shrug.

Before Meera can say anything else, I call my private retinue of advanced werewolves to my side. Not all of the chosen come
— some are dead. But most assemble, grinning ghoulishly, blood dripping from their chins.

“Let’s go and find Juni,” I tell them, and over the mounds of dead bodies we climb.

Not all of the soldiers perished at the perimeter. Some dropped back when they realized their cause was lost. They’re fleeing
through the compound, pursued by ravenous werewolves. I don’t know where they think they can hide. It’s over. They’ll be tracked
down and slit from groin to skull. Running only adds sport to the slaughter.

It’s hard not to give in to temptation and hunt with the pack. Juni’s just one person (or whatever the hell it is that she’s
become). There are so many others to chase and murder. I have to focus to keep my feral nature in check. I tell myself Juni
will be worth it, that the joy of killing her will be greater than a dozen human deaths. But I’m not convinced. I think I
might be happier if I surrendered to my desires and ran wild. I’d like to butcher freely while the butchering’s good.

I’m aware of Meera, Timas, and Prae arming themselves, picking guns from the corpses. I don’t bother with weapons. I relied
on magic and my wits before. Now I have something even better — claws and fangs.

Some of the werewolves sniff longingly at the humans, but the members of my personal guard warn them off with soft growls.
Give it a few days and they might not be so obedient. But there’s plenty for all to eat now, so they’re willing to let these
three snack-boxes on legs pass unmolested.

We press farther into the building. The stench of Juni’s sickly sweet sweat fills my nostrils. I hope she’s sweating with
fear, that she’s trapped, nowhere to run, dreading our confrontation. If she’s not afraid now, I’ll show her fear before I
kill her. I don’t want her to die without knowing what it’s like to tremble in the clutches of one more twisted and vicious
than yourself.

As I’m closing on her location, I feel a sweep of something like air gushing through the compound. It’s warm and tingling.
It seeps into my pores, filling me with power.

Magic.

I should be grateful for the extra strength, but I’m not. The wash of magic through the building can mean only one thing —
a window has been opened. I’m not afraid of what might come through — I’d fight any number of demons — but I don’t want Juni
skipping ahead of me to safety in the foul universe she’s chosen to call home.

“Quick!” I roar, darting ahead of the others, shouldering a door aside, rushing down a corridor, homing in on the scent of
Juni Swan.

“Grubbs!” shouts Meera. “Wait. Don’t go in there alone.”

But nothing can stop me. A couple of seconds later, wild at the thought that I might miss my chance for revenge, I break through
another doorway and into the room where we discovered Prae Athim bound and gagged.

The window hovers near the back of the room, a jagged red panel of light. I dart towards it, meaning to follow Juni, even
though I know it’s suicide. Then a bolt of energy knocks me sideways. Searing pain eats into my flesh, forcing a scream from
my lips.

I stagger and realize I’ve been tricked. Juni’s still here. She was standing to the left of the door. Easy to spot if I’d
been paying attention, but I lost my wits for a few vital seconds. Now she has the upper hand.

As I lurch towards her, she mutters a spell and the floor at my feet explodes. Splinters shoot into my stomach, chest and
face. I instinctively jerk my head back.

Roaring, I raise a hand to protect my eyes. Ignoring the stinging pain of the splinters buried in my flesh, I set my sights
on the pustulant, bloodstained, flesh-dripping Juni Swan. She’s smiling insanely. Beyond her, in the doorway, I see Meera
and the others, separated from us by an invisible barrier. The werewolves of my retinue are digging at the barrier with their
claws, but it will take more than brute force to penetrate Juni’s magic shield.

“Did you think I’d leave without saying goodbye?” Juni giggles.

“I’ll kill you!” I roar. “I’ll rip your head from your neck and —”

“Please don’t finish,” Juni interrupts. “I detest vulgarity.” She waves a hand at me and the splinters expand and burrow deeper
into my skin. I gasp and collapse to my knees. Another couple of seconds and they’ll pierce my heart and brain.

If you’ll allow me some leeway…
the voice of the Kah-Gash murmurs. The splinters shoot out of my body and rain down on Juni. That catches her by surprise.
With a shriek, she covers her eyes, protecting them as I did. For a moment she’s defenseless.

Using the newly developed muscles in my legs, I spring across the room and bowl Juni over. I slam her to the floor and drive
a claw into the putrid, oozing flesh of her stomach. She moans, eyes shooting wide, baring her teeth, trembling with agony.
I make a fist, grab some of her inner organs and jerk hard. My hand shlups out, trailing guts. Blood splatters the floor.
I gurgle with delight.

Juni screams, then covers the hole in her stomach with a hand. Magic flares and the flesh around the hole heals. I don’t care.
While she’s repairing herself, I latch on to her head, jam my fangs into the bone behind her right ear, and start chewing
my way through to her brain.

Juni’s fresh screams fill me with delight. I almost pull away to enjoy her expression. But I know how dangerous she is. I
can’t give her any freedom. Best to chew quickly and disable her.

Heat flares in my fangs. I try desperately to bite down. I’m almost through the hard covering of the skull. So close to her
brain. But the heat’s too much to bear. With a cry of pain and rage, I break free.

Juni’s at my throat with incredible speed. Newly grown fingernails dig into the flesh beneath my chin, while the fingers of
her other hand tighten around my neck. I sense the fingers stretching, looping, meeting at the back, and melting into each
other, tightening into a noose. I try to roar but my vocal cords are squeezed shut.

I slam an elbow into Juni’s ribs. Several crack. She grunts, but doesn’t release me. She’s cackling. Pokes her face up close
to mine. Her left eye was punctured, but it grows back as she taunts me.

“Thought you could kill sweet Juni?” she screeches. “Thought a pup like you could overcome a full-grown mistress of dark magic?”
Her fingers tighten another notch. “What do you think now,
Grubitsch
?”