Thank you all for your continued support of this story. Your votes and comments mean so much to me. As a writer I am continuously growing in my craft and a part of that includes some hard lessons. As you read, you may notice a change. In previous chapters I used the word "Gypsy". I am formally apologizing as this is a derogatory term and hurtful to the various traveler peoples. For the duration of the story these characters shall be Romani. I am currently working my way backwards in the story and am unsure how long this will take. If you find any G-words that I missed, please let me know right away so I can correct it. I thank you for your understanding and again apologize for my error. (note: this paragraph will be repeated in future chapters to ensure all my readers have the opportunity to read this notice)
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The rhythmic pounding of large black paws alerted anyone within one mile that something was coming long before the blue-eyed beast was in sight. And whenever that sound rung through the city streets, everyone was ready for what New Yorkers had quickly named... the Demon Dog. Sightings were tagged all over social media using #demondogsighting or #newyorkdemondog, and the best one – #holyshititsthedemondogofnewyork!
By the time the Lord Alpha was finally closing in on his target, the wild werewolf had a Facebook page, Twitter account, and Instagram feed dedicated to him, with over 500,000 combined followers. But his popularity wasn't in his favor. Every police woman and man, bounty hunter and reward seeker was on the hunt for the creature whose running tab of total damage was reaching up into the hundreds of thousands. Oddly, there were no known casualties – yet, but that didn't stop the city of New York from issuing rewards for any information that could lead them to the capture of whatever creature or hoaxer was causing so much trouble.
Unfortunately, Leland, lost within the powerful grip of his preternatural self, was unaware of what was happening around him, or what the cost would be once he found her. Liz. His Mate. The only thing keeping him from losing himself completely to the darkness within. She was his beacon of hope and nothing would come between them ever again. Not even a traitorous werewolf who had everyone fooled for far too long!
A growl tore through his throat at the thought of the Rogue, sounding more like a roar down the echoing alleyway he was soaring through.
He was unaware of the turning heads, flashing cameras, and advancing sirens. Nor did he realize how badly the world was desperate to capture the mysterious monster of New York. All his brain could register was the increasing tingle in his gut, the otherworldly sense that he was following the right path.
And then he smelled her! Mild, distant, but distinctively her. Subtle notes of honey-vanilla and cayenne pepper, mixed with the unpleasant odor of a dominant Rogue, filled his nostrils. He took in the scent as he ran, filling his lungs, his soul, with her essence. It electrified his blood and jolted him with a new surge of energy – and determination.
Leaping out of the alley the scenery changed from unkempt city streets to barren, overgrown lots, and beyond that, a line of night-blackened trees barricading the horizon. He did not hesitate as he raced towards the forest. The closer he came, the stronger her scent – and the closer to his enemy. He wanted to howl in triumph, to send a bone-chilling warning to the traitor that death was coming, but he refrained. Liz was not yet out of danger and such a warning would be foolish, even his wilder, less human self, understood that.
Instead, he hunted like the wolf he was, weaving through trees and gliding over the forest floor with noiseless precision. Not even a mouse would hear him coming. And as he stalked ever closer to the traitor's lair, he plotted and planned which limbs he would rip away first, before tearing out his throat!
An unexpected sound escaped his lungs as delightful images of a dying Rogue flitted through his mind. The warning he hadn't wanted to give was released. It vibrated from the depths of his spirit, a long, lone howl. Its fathomless, haunting, piercing tone pulsed beneath his paws, echoed through the air and trembled in the trees – traveling for miles and miles. And not only did every person, creature and being hear the chilling call, but they felt it – right down to their core, reaching a soul-deep, primal part of their anima.
And they all responded.
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Ethan's grip on the steering wheel tightened in response to the foreboding shiver that rippled through his body just before the sound reached their ears.
"What was that?" Daniella asked, "It felt like my spine was squeezed in a vice grip, but sounded like a...like a..." the word hung on the tip of her tongue but wouldn't come out.
"Like a wolf howl," Ethan finished for her.
Their eyes snapped to each other as a simultaneous, "Shit!" escaped their lips.
They needed to find Leland – fast.
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Vanessa needed revenge. It was that dark desire that drove her thoughts to madness, even as the distant, eerie howl resonated in her ears and crawled beneath her skin. The plots she was building to take down the rich bastard that caused her social blackout, were too important to allow some mysterious sound to distract her.
No matter where you are, she thought to herself as she studied the New York night sky through her bedroom window, I will find you Leland Moore, and I will ruin you!
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"Oh my God! Did you hear that? More importantly, did you get that on tape?" Sarah Shelton asked her camera man. When he shook his head, the word "Fuck!" escaped her mouth. I'm ruined!
Then she noticed that his hands were shaking as much as hers were, his face was slightly paled with a glazed gleam in his eyes, and she wondered if he felt the same uncanny chill run down his back as well. If he felt it, she wondered, did all of New York feel it too?
"OH!" She exclaimed as the sudden realization hit her. This is it! The big one. Turning to her camera man she said, "We have to find this mystery creature first! Our careers depend on it!"
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The phone rang, interrupting Collin's train of thought. Looking at the caller ID he smiled. His career was about to get a boost. "Elder Kaalpanja," he answered, "to what do I owe this honor, Sir?" He knew what the call was about.
"Embree! What the hell is happening in your Region?!" came the enraged reply. "You care to explain how a fucking werewolf got caught on video?!"
Normally, being yelled at by an Elder would put the Regent Alpha in a foul, groveling mood. Instead, he could barely contain his glee. After a heartbeat, he answered with all the seriousness and gravity he could muster, "It's the Rogue, Sir. He's on the run. And we've finally identified him... it's... Leland Moore."
Silence. It was the first time Collin had ever known the Elder to be rendered speechless.
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No one said a word, nor uttered a sound. Even Madam Corauni was speechless before the Rogue's steely glare. And then they all heard it – the long, lone, haunting howl of a powerful werewolf. It rumbled within the ground, echoed in the air, and sent ripples of Alpha energy to grip their spines in a cold clamp, rendering them momentarily motionless.
After several heartbeats, Dennis made the first move. Raising his hand, he intended to use his psychic talents to throw the beast aside, but somehow the Rogue was faster – his anger fueled him as he lunged forward in one, smooth, swift movement. The only warning was a muffled snarl as Dennis's hand disappeared within the mangled maw of the battered beast. The Romani's screams echoed in the small room as he was tossed to the side like a broken toy. The sickening crack of his fragile skull against concrete loosed a battle cry from Madam Corauni, but she was still too weak. Her attempt to subdue the crazed werewolf were met with four sharp claws embedded deep within her bowels. Her silent scream was stifled by the sickening, sucking sound released by the tortuously slow removal of his paw from her abdomen.
Biting back a scream of her own, it was all Liz could do to not freak out. Her whole body tensed in anticipation as once again she was faced with death. Over and over again her life had hung in the balance – had even dipped a bit too far into the darkness before somehow coming back to the conscious world. And all of this happened in the span of a few days. It was enough to break even the strongest of wills – had almost broke Liz. Almost.
But a deeply embedded fury uncoiled itself from within her – as if waking from a long slumber, and reared up in angry response – ready to face the monster.
Once again, Beast and beauty stood before each other with death prowling in the shadows. Only this time, a power Liz did not understand vibrated from within her core, while rage burned away her fears. She felt like the boy in her vision, who stood before this very werewolf and, fueled by the loss of his family, gave the beast his tell-tale scar – except Liz wanted to do more than scar the Rogue. She wanted to finish what she apparently started – and tear him limb from limb!
His snarling mutilated face no longer scared her. His single burgundy eye – that burned with hatred, no longer sent chills down her spine. And his size no longer loomed over her in ominous oppression. She only saw a desperate, dilapidated dog that was at the end of a very long rope. His extinction was near. She could feel it.
But the Rogue was not one to give up so easily. He managed to kill two powerful Romani in his battered condition after all. He was confident he would live to see another day. The golden glint in her eyes and the swarm of energy building around her did nothing to quell his resolve. He had one move left. And he was determined to be victorious.
Building his own alpha energy – yeah, alpha energy – he bolstered his constitution, jolting every inch of his damaged body with the last of his strength. Electrified blood pumped through his veins. Waves of energy rolled off his body like a tidal wave, crashing into Liz's paranormal storm.
Strangely, he found this so...exciting. It had been a very long time since he had met someone as fierce as Liz. Yet while she possessed a psychic power beyond anything he'd ever seen, she lacked the experience to wield it. She had gotten lucky before. She wouldn't get lucky again. He imagined every way in which he could slaughter her, how her blood would taste in his mouth, and the way the life would drain from those pretty golden eyes!
And while she watched him with calculating eyes, waiting for him to make his next move, he showed her a version of himself that no one else had ever seen before.
Yet it was not his slow, deliberate movements that shocked her, nor the way his muscles tensed and his claws clenched, as he crouched like the predator he was. Not even the menacing snarl beneath enraged glowing eyes took her by surprise, nor the subtle movements an animal makes before attacking. All this she expected from a psychotic werewolf.
But there was nothing that could have ever prepared her for what he did next.
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Again, thank you all for reading. Please don't forget to vote, comment, and share.
:-) ~Nikki Hudak~