Banewolf (Dark Siren Book 2) Read online

  Agilely darting in and out of the fray, River punished their opponents with the quick and fatal strikes of a viper. Orrin stood his ground like a mad grizzly, destroying any challenger who dared come near the prize he guarded. Orrin didn’t just kill. He tore his opponents to pieces.

  Without teeth, claws, or an indestructible war skin at his disposal, Rhane relied on Bellefuron. Bane silver glowed bluish-green as the sword’s razor-sharp edges sliced through muscle, organ, and bone. Black blood flew from rogue bodies in spurts and splatters. The liquid contacted Rhane’s skin, burning like acid. He ignored the pain, swinging Bellefuron until the targets stopped coming and there was nothing left to kill.

  The forest was silent again. Bodies were scattered across the ground with thick rivers of blood spilling out from them. Sunlight marred the rogues’ human flesh into gruesomely twisted limbs. Rhane closed his eyes. It wasn’t strange pewter masks or dead rogues he saw. No. For a long time, the faces had always been the same.

  Rhane sensed rather than saw River and York come to stand beside him. Noting Orrin’s absence, he turned. The young kin was still in wolf form, standing in the very same spot he had been when Rhane and the others had first arrived. Mutilated bodies lay at his feet. The decomposing corpse was just beyond them.

  Rhane stabbed Bellefuron into the ground and whistled softly. Gravity would do its work and help drain the blood from its metal. “It’s alright, Orrin. You can stand down.”

  The wolf watched him, breathing heavily but quietly. Its eyes were angry, still flashing from battle. Rhane realized this was Orrin’s first encounter with rogues. What a grisly first time.

  “It’s alright,” Rhane repeated. “Stand down.”

  The massive brown head lowered. Wolf features melted away, and Orrin emerged. Rhane watched carefully as he stood, until the younger kin nodded. He was okay.

  “Now show me what you’ve got there,” Rhane said.

  Chapter 11

  In life, King Richard was a party loving, skirt chasing frat boy. Beneath the wild exterior was a kid mostly everyone liked. He was known for going out of his way to help a friend, and didn’t let his love for the game, parties, or girls get in the way of good study habits. And despite the horny pretense, he was actually crazy in love with the girl next door, a neighbor back in high school. Now King, a handsome, likeable guy, was only fertilizer.

  Marbled black and green flesh had stretched taut, rapidly losing ground against expanding gases and liquefying tissues swelling inside the body cavity. In some spots, the skin had ruptured and leeched brownish fluids. Frothy purge drained from the mouth and down two mottled, decaying cheeks. Both tongue and eyes protruded. Maggots moved in pulsating masses beneath the dermis. The hatching was accelerated by the nourishment of oxygen seeping in from tears in the blackening skin. As Rhane watched, the boy’s hair line retreated half an inch as the skin sagged away from the scalp.

  “That’s just nasty,” York said from behind him.

  King had been missing for nearly a month. From the look of things, he’d been dead only a week or so. The boy’s throat was ripped out, making it safe to say that was the likely cause of death. Rhane knelt beside the body and ran his fingers through the soil.

  “Orrin, come here.” As Orrin kneeled next to him, Rhane explained, “Notice there are flies—but no maggots have migrated to the surrounding area.”

  “Yes. I see,” Orrin answered tightly.

  “At this stage of decay, those insects should have already reached the soil. This body was recently moved.”

  Orrin nodded but still looked confused. The waves of nausea that washed over him blocked his mind from absorbing a lesson in forensics. “What would be the point in moving a decaying corpse all the way out here?”

  “And why did they wait until all of us got here to attack?” York added.

  Rhane stood up. “Good questions.”

  Orrin moved away from the body, needing to put distance between his nose and the awful stench. His stomach quivered again, forcing him to yank his mind toward a different direction. Rhane had more questions. That helped.

  “After your arrival, at what point did the rogues get here?”

  He’d been out in the woods for a long time in a stand-off against the creatures. “A few hours…I believe they were already close, waiting for the body to be discovered.”

  “So, they brought the body here for the sole purpose of being found? It doesn’t make sense.” Rhane paced away. Retrieving Bellefuron from its earthen scabbard, he rubbed the metal with a handful of sand and polished it with a cloth kept inside his back pocket. As soon as the blood was cleaned, the bluish-green glow disappeared and a natural metallic sheen returned.

  “Perhaps they did not want just anyone to find it.”

  Rhane looked up. “Go on.”

  “As York has already observed, the creatures waited until all of us were here before taking action. They could have attacked me, but they did not. Neither did they allow me to leave.”

  “Do you think this battle was staged?”

  River spoke first, shaking his head. “It felt real. We killed many, but dozens more were out there who never joined the fight.”

  “Let’s start with the connection between King and these rogues…other than the fact that they murdered him.” Rhane folded his arms across his chest. “York, what did you find from asking around on campus? Give me something to help us.”

  Before York could answer, River interjected. The action earned him a dark glower from York. “If there was some connection via King’s school, I have faith even you would not have missed it. Where did the boy work?”

  York waited for Rhane’s nod before answering. “Clever Dust Book Sellers,” he said.

  “Mothers be damned.” All heads jerked to rigid attention. Rhane had uttered a curse on their foremothers, a shocking oath only used in the direst of circumstances. “They wanted the ledger,” he said and backed away. “After that fight, our DNA is sure to be all over this area. Clear the scene. Then reconstruct it. Move the body to somewhere this kid will be found by the proper authorities.” He took a folded leather parcel from the inside pocket of his jacket shoved the item into River’s accepting hands. “Get this to the manor and compare it to the map. Call me when it’s done.”

  “Where are you going?” York called as he dashed off, but Rhane was already too far away to answer.

  At the parking area, his pickup was a ruined mess. Both were doors ripped off. The leather seats were in shreds. The dashboard dangled from the truck’s frame. Rogues had done this. No doubt shaded Rhane’s mind. It was the ledger they sought. Checking under the back seat confirmed the book was gone.

  So, it was York’s truck that carried him down the state park road at an Indy 500 practice pace. Thirty minutes outside of High Falls, he was about to hit the ramp for the interstate when a dark mass ran into the road a hundred yards in front of the pickup. Rhane stood on the brakes and steered the vehicle through a controlled skid. Then he threw open the driver’s side door. “Get in.”

  Bailen didn’t waste time. A nimble jump lifted him inside the cab. He climbed over Rhane with less grace to sit in the passenger seat. Rhane glared at him. “The last time you did that, I hit you and pointlessly felt bad about it.”

  He didn’t ask why Bailen had traveled two hundred miles to find him. Rhane already knew. Kalista was in trouble.

  Chapter 12

  Warren answered on the first ring. “Bailen is with me,” Rhane said and waited for an explanation.

  “That’s good.” War sounded both relieved and anxious. “I sent him.”

  “Where is Kalista?”

  He blew out a preparing breath before answering. “I don’t know. She didn’t come home straight after school. Bailen returned to the manor not long after York left to meet you. We knew something was wrong then. Rhane…we’ve looked but we can’t find her.”

  “Tell me what you did find.”

  “The trail ended at the school.
Whatever went wrong, it happened there.”

  “Okay. I’ll call again when I have her.”

  Rhane hung up and hit the accelerator. It was another twenty minutes to Ridge Creek High School. He was going to get there in ten.

  #

  Somewhere in the nearly deserted building, the school band was having a disastrous practice. The harshness of their disharmony hurt Rhane’s ears. He was grateful when the heavy doors of the pool auditorium closed and effectively sealed out the clamor.

  Any spoor would have been hard for him to trace in the chlorine flooded atmosphere. Good thing Bailen was there. His sense of smell was far more powerful than Rhane’s. Hitting on the trail, Bailen followed it to the girl’s locker room. Away from the overwhelming chlorine, Rhane was able to match the markers uniquely Kalista’s. Another spoor rode hers closely—a familiar one. He had smelled it many times before in faint undertones on Kalista’s person and within the Metts household. His mind matched a face to the scent. Callan. Why had he been in the girl’s locker room?

  The scent of fear became strong near the community showers. Kalista’s fear. Callan’s smell was stronger there as well. Rhane’s hands tightened into fists.

  Something in the boy’s markers differed from before. It was a peculiar change, one that triggered a distant memory and teased the corners of Rhane’s mind. Standing in the large stall, he did a complete three-sixty. From there, the trail simply vanished as if she’d never left the locker room. Rhane went through it again. Outside, he tried once more. There was nothing. He looked back at Bailen, sitting behind him. Rhane knelt to meet his eyes. “Help me find her.”

  Bailen whined. His dark body shivered.

  “Please. Take me to Kalista.”

  Bailen didn’t make a move.

  Rhane sighed. He didn’t understand what could be holding Bailen back. He could definitely understand English. There was no doubt about that. But why he chose not to vocally communicate in the ancient language of the war skins, Rhane wasn’t certain. The canine’s befuddling behavior didn’t make things easy.

  He tried again. “Whatever happened, I can help her. I will help her.”

  Bailen’s honey eyes searched into his. Then he huffed softly. The tightness that gripped Rhane’s chest loosened. “Okay. Away with you then.”

  #

  They ran for a solid hour. The town of Ridge Creek and its neighboring city became a distant dot behind them. No road. Only trees. Rhane hadn’t spotted a sign of human habitation for miles. Still, Bailen did not slow the pace. Then the rain started.

  It was a downpour actually. Water dumped in buckets from the heavens and drenched the earth. In less than a minute, Rhane and Bailen were soaked. Thunder rumbled. Lightning split the air. The darkening sky rippled and flashed.

  “Stay on it!” Rhane yelled over the storm.

  The rain fell even harder. Liquid sheets thickened into blankets that didn’t allow Rhane to see a foot in front of him. Keeping track of Bailen got extremely difficult, especially when the kin pulled too far ahead. Bailen seemed to realize this. Returning to Rhane’s side, he pressed his furry body against Rhane’s leg and guided him.

  Bailen trembled. A second later, Rhane smelled them. Heavily acidic, ancient and wild, the smell of kindred was unmistakable. Even more disconcerting was the smell of kindred blood—lots of it.

  Rhane slipped the Desert Eagle from its holster and aimed the pistol wherever his eyes looked. He didn’t want any surprises. The amount of blood that hung in the air, sticking even to the wet surroundings, wasn’t a good sign. He didn’t know what to expect, but he knew it was bad. Real bad.

  Senses crippled in the freakish storm, a whimper from Bailen alerted him that they were not alone. Rhane spun to face what stood behind him, and came to face to face with the one he so desperately sought. But her appearance stopped him from gathering her in his arms as he wanted to. It also stopped him from lowering the gun.

  Kalista’s head was bent. Her dark hair hung limply, dripping with water stained pink from residual blood. Her skin was ghostly white. Her eyes were wild and black. She stalked forward slowly, her movements giving Rhane the impression he was being hunted. Bailen whined.

  Kindred blood covered her body from head to toe. There was so much of it; Rhane highly doubted the victim could’ve survived. A ball of dread knotted his gut. If she had fed from such a thing, she would not be herself…and she would be extremely dangerous.

  He kept his eyes and the gun trained dead center of her heart. A sharp pain tore through his chest when he considered pulling the trigger. “Kalista,” he said, hoping to reach her.

  Her eyes were blank. She continued to slink toward him.

  “Kalista, this isn’t you. I need you to come back.” Though he shouted over the wind, there was no evidence the words reached her. No sign of recognition flashed across her face. What had caused this? How many had she killed? The questions sliced through his brain like a hot wire.

  Rhane fired. But the aim was over Kalista’s left shoulder, and the bullet sailed harmlessly past her. Apparently, it was exactly what was needed. Kalista blinked. Her eyes lightened from black to a more human shade of grey.

  “Rhane?” She sounded genuinely confused.

  Relief washed over him, but it was only for an instant. He lowered the gun slightly. “Kalista, are you hurt?”

  “I—I…” She muttered the rest incoherently, moved toward him again and stopped. Her eyes had finally registered the gun. Her face widened in horror. “What have I done?”

  He didn’t answer. He couldn’t. But his expression must have said a lot.

  Kalista sobbed. She made an attempt to stagger toward him but collapsed, splashing into a puddle of water. She didn’t move again.

  Rhane uttered a curse, hating himself for not going to her, for causing her pain. He walked over to her sagging, dejected form and crouched down, touching her face lightly. Her skin was ice cold and clammy.

  “Damn it, Kalista,” he whispered.

  Movement beyond the trees caught his eye. Rhane reached his feet in a flash. Tucking the gun away, he withdrew Bellefuron and dropped the blade into a low guard. With the hilt pulled back to his hip, it was a very effective, nearly impenetrable stance. The sword required closer range than a gun but guaranteed more damage and greater accuracy. Bellefuron’s weight was reassuring. And Rhane needed that reassurance. He was about to face a horde of very pissed-off kindred…alone.

  Chapter 13

  Rhane stood over Kalista with Bailen’s growl loud and steady in his ears. Shadows moved through the rain. The hulking figures became clearer as they drew closer. It was a pack of kindred, creeping forward on all fours. The creatures were immense. Why their mimicked human forms were not apparent in absence of moonlight, Rhane couldn’t begin to guess. Other things pressed more urgently at his mind.

  Rainwater slid from the kindred’s greyish hued skin, coursing over knots on their sparsely haired bodies. The features of their distorted faces seemed perpetually angry. Troll-ish frames bent and twisted with every movement. As far as ugly went, these guys pretty much took the entire cake.

  The pack halted, but one of them pulled ahead of the rest. Bones crunched and flesh melted as the monster shifted its hide into a human physique. A man rose to stand before Rhane in full nakedness. He immediately recognized the face. It was Ian.

  His red eyes gleamed as he looked at the young girl slumped beneath Rhane’s feet. “You know this offense forfeits her life to me.”

  Rhane held Bellefuron at ready and was careful to keep his eyes still as he counted. “I will defend what is mine.”

  Nine. Tricky but not impossible odds. Ian would have to die first.

  “You would kill me before allowing me to assert vengeance that is lawfully mine,” Ian said as if reading Rhane’s thoughts. “Is this creature truly yours?”

  Ian’s stately poise was an absurd contrast to their surroundings, to the wildness of a kindred’s violent nature, and to the alpha�
��s stark nudity. Rhane almost laughed out loud. It took some effort, but he remained silent.

  Ian needed less help than York to continue a conversation. “This one is extraordinary. But her presence will make your existence more difficult…and inevitably shorter, if the Primes have their say. Why do you persist in defending her?”

  “You wouldn’t understand.”

  Sadness flickered across Ian’s features. “Perhaps I might. I too loved once.”

  Rhane said nothing. His stance didn’t waver.

  Ian shrugged. “Do you truly understand what it is you fight for? Sirens were not created to love or be loved.” His red eyes hardened. “They are to be possessed. Yet you claim to love her. You even sired an abomination.” He gestured to Kalista and then brought two fingers to rest on his chin as if pondering a deep thought. “Do you love? Or is it a desire for the power she possesses, to command even this rain from the heavens?” Ian’s gaze rolled upward and then glided down to Rhane. “What motivates your obstinacy? Are you truly different from the others?” Ian’s eyes flitted to the left.

  Experience had taught Rhane a hard lesson: what the borderline sociopath didn’t say was far more important than his psychotic babblings. Ian had a special skill for telling without actually saying. He also had a knack for knowing things.

  “What really happened here?” The answer to that question couldn’t make the situation any worse.

  Ian’s lips pulled into a smile. “Ah. I believe your siren has taken the life of one of our brothers.”

  “I didn’t see that happen. I don’t think you did either.”

  The smile vanished. “His blood cries out to us.”

  “That’s not enough.”

  “Then we are at an impasse.”