Beast Out Of Hell Read online

  "I'll explain on the way," Xochitl snatched the camo jacket Lefty had given her off the recliner by the sofa. "Granny. Where's on the way?"

  "She'd take the woods." Granny scowled at Lucy's gun. "That way." The old woman's voice shook, and her hand trembled as she pointed her three-footed cane in the direction of the front door to the dense forest that lined the western edge of her ranch. "It's the quickest route to the Hell Hound camp." Granny fixed her tear-filled eyes on Xochitl. "No roads. You'll have to track her by foot."

  "Not a problem," Lucy said, all business.

  ¡Híjole! Luce. You're scaring the crap out of the abuelita.

  Xochi gave Granny a thin it'll-be-all-right smile.

  Please let it be all right.

  Granny returned the gesture with a small nod, then threw back her shoulders and tilted her chin high.

  Tough old bird.

  "Yes. Well," she continued, her voice tinged with determination. "Jamie couldn't have gotten far. Get her before she gets to the Hell Hounds. Have her take you to Oz."

  "Oz?" Lucy holstered her gun once more.

  "As in yellow brick?" Xochi asked.

  "As in hippie commune," the old woman tsked, clearly back in Granny mode. "We'll meet you there."

  Granny turned on her heel and stumped toward the kitchen.

  "Sounds like a plan." Xochitl grabbed her Remington and ran out the front door.

  Lucy charged after her.

  Both women stopped suddenly. Looked at each other. Looked up the steps. Fear for the old woman at the forefront of their minds.

  "Granny, don't forget Clint!"

  Chapter 8

  REAPER

  Broglie

  Granny's Ranch

  2 hours ago

  "Run!" Lucy Lowell's command detonated in Reaper's mind like a hundred pound block of C-4. Agonizing shockwave after agonizing shockwave rolled through his body as he helplessly sprinted away from Granny's ranch.

  Shit! What'd she do to me? "Run!"

  He raced past a wounded Slicer, blood dripping down his arm, and into the forest.

  How's this possible? She's not my Alpha…"Run!"

  Reaper strained and pulled uselessly against Lowell's will in an effort to make his legs quit running.

  Make yourself stop! "Run!"

  His breathing quickened, and his muscles burned as he unwillingly propelled himself faster and faster through the woods.

  I can't stop! "Run!"

  Dodging around trees and hurdling over rocks, Lucy Lowell's crushing power warred with Reaper's driving instinct to find his Pack, compelling him ever forward toward the Hell Hound camp — toward Zeke.

  I'm dead. That fucking Werewolf Whisperer just killed me. "Run!"

  A strong scent caught on the breeze, drawing Reaper's focus northwest.

  Slicer! He's close. He's turned...He's headed for Oz. "Run!"

  His thoughts swirled out of control.

  Can't let him get to Oz. He'll hurt people. "Run!"

  Fear gripped Reaper like a vise, and his heart felt as though it would explode out of his chest.

  Can't let him tell Zeke about me…about Jamie. But I can't outrun Slicer like this…How do I change now? "Run! Run! Run!"

  The unrelenting sound of Lucy Lowell's voice spun like a broken record in Reaper's mind. He clenched his fists tighter even as his arms endlessly pumped and pumped, pushing him forward.

  Jamie's sweet voice broke through the churning chaos.

  "You gotta focus on the turn. Focus on who you really are."

  "Okay," he panted. "Focus on who I am."

  Focus. Focus. Focus.

  He inhaled and exhaled deeply several times, forcing The Werewolf Whisperer from his thoughts.

  In an instant, a flash of heat rushed through Reaper's limbs. His blood surged and pulsed rapidly in his veins. But there was no pain. No tearing or cracking of muscles and bone. Just an effortless shift from human to Werebeast, like pulling on a new pair of jeans or slipping on his leather cut.

  Reaper howled with delight.

  He tore through the forest like a bat out of hell, drunk on his own speed and power — primal, ancient, pure. In that moment, he was no longer Reaper, no longer Haywood. He just was.

  Out of nowhere, Slicer smashed into Reaper from behind, launching him across a clump of dense brush and into the middle of a patch of tall leafy plants. Reaper yelped and crashed onto his back, hitting his head on the moist ground.

  The sweet dizzying smell of Morey's marijuana crop hit Reaper from all sides.

  Oz! Too close.

  Reaper's ear twitched at the cheery sound of laughter.

  Young. Female…Alma Hernandez.

  Reaper had met Alma only once at The Hair of the Dog where she waitressed. Small and pretty with jet black hair and deep brown eyes, the young girl had reminded him of an Aztec princess he'd once seen painted on an underpass along the 5 Freeway.

  Jamie had told Reaper that the Hernandez family had been migrant farm workers before K-Day. Then Alma's father, Hector, turned Hound. Fearing the Catchers would hunt them, Alma's mother and her two older brothers had dumped Hector on the side of the road. But Alma couldn't bear to leave her father, so she'd jumped from the bed of their moving truck and had taken off after him.

  Alma and Hector had walked from town to town for months, eventually making their way to Broglie. She'd only been fourteen.

  Hector's sick again. Alma's getting medicine from Patty's.

  Reaper scrambled onto all fours.

  Need to lead Slicer away from here.

  "Come and get me motherfucker!" Reaper growled over his shoulder and tore through the rows of cannabis, serrated leaves — like five-fingered hands — clawing at his golden fur.

  All around him, the towering stalks swished and swayed in a whirl of mesmerizing greens. They slapped at his muzzle. Cut him.

  Can't stop.

  He darted into the forest, zigzagging through the redwoods.

  Don't stop.

  He sensed Slicer was near. Felt his Packmate's rage. Knew the Hell Hound would catch him.

  Won't stop.

  Slicer slashed at Reaper's back. Searing pain scorched through his muscles like a red-hot branding iron.

  Reaper howled and tumbled face-first onto an old downed tree rotting on the ground. Redwood shards dug under his fur, and blood seeped from his leathery nose.

  Slicer yanked Reaper up by his scruff and stared at him with blazing amber eyes.

  "I'd kill you now," the hulking brown Werebeast snarled. "But the Alpha wants you alive."

  Slicer slammed Reaper's snout back down onto the tree.

  Crack!

  Everything went black.

  Reaper zips right then left, darting and dashing around the evergreens. His massive golden paws sink into the cold snow. He leaves a trail of deep prints behind him.

  Easy to track.

  Reaper sniffs the air.

  He is near. Flanking me. Smart. Like his mother.

  Reaper smiles to himself. He sprints out of the woods into the clearing.

  Not too fast. The snow will make him slower.

  A cheery giggle — bright like the sun cutting through a cloudy day — distracts Reaper. He looks across the blinding-white clearing.

  Jamie.

  She cups her hand over her mouth and shakes her head.

  Reaper is tackled from the side.

  "Got you!" the small silver-furred Beast growls and nips at Reaper's neck. "You're dead!"

  "Oh, yeah!" Reaper snatches the little Beast up and throws him over his shoulder.

  The child squeals.

  Jamie cradles her jiggling swollen belly as she throws her head back toward the blue sky and bellows with laughter.

  She is happy.

  Reaper is happy.

  "Did you think you could run?" a thunderous voice booms from every direction.

  Zeke!


  Reaper spins around, scanning the snowy clearing for his Alpha.

  Nothing.

  Suddenly, the Hell Hound grabs Jamie from behind. She screams.

  Jamie!

  Reaper tries to run to his mate. He's stuck. His legs sink deeper and deeper into the snow. Panic rushes through him.

  My boy! Where's my boy?

  A small fluffy ear pokes out from the icepack.

  Frantic, Reaper digs through the snow. He digs and digs until his paws are bloody and numb. He digs until he's clawing into the frozen ground.

  Nothing.

  The boy is gone.

  Reaper howls with sorrow.

  The sky turns dark.

  A powerful force yanks Reaper back into the woods. Pain shoots up his spine. Dirt and snow muzzle his anguished cries. Trees wind and twist their branches around his arms and legs. They hoist him up and up. He is spread wide like a dissected animal. He cannot move. He cannot scream. He can only watch as Zeke rips his razor claws through Jamie's belly.

  Jamie!

  Reaper whimpered. Dull pain throbbed from his skull down his back, and his jaw ached. Something cold and sharp bit into his cheeks.

  What is that?

  He tried to reach up, but his arm wouldn't budge.

  Why can't I move?

  Reaper blinked rapidly and shook his head. His foggy vision slowly focused on a smiling face.

  Zeke?

  "There he is." Zeke gripped Reaper's chin, the hard bass of his voice sounding muffled and far away.

  Zeke!

  Reaper's eyes went wide. His heart pounded in his chest. He yanked himself from Zeke's grasp and looked around. Shirtless and chained, Reaper hung between two giant redwoods, his arms and legs spread wide — a metal horse bit shoved in his mouth.

  Fuck!

  The entire Hell Hound MC stood in a semicircle behind Zeke — all but Slicer. Still in Werebeast form, he clutched his arm and snarled at Reaper. A small bald spot in his dirty matted fur revealed a tiny pink scar where Jamie's bullet had nicked him.

  Jamie shoulda shot you in the head…Jamie!

  A fist of panic punched Reaper in the gut.

  Turn!

  Heat coursed through Reaper's veins. His muscles stretched over his shifting bones. He heard his claws scraping against the steel chains.

  "Stop!" Zeke roared. "No turning!"

  The Alpha's will twined around Reaper like barbed wire, shredding his focus. His claws automatically retracted. He choked out a whine.

  "That's a good dog." Zeke patted Reaper on the head. "Now, where you going, Haywood? Don't you wanna be my VP anymore?"

  Dicer dangled Reaper's leather cut in front of him and snickered.

  Zeke looked back at the Hell Hounds. "Guess he'd rather fuck that strawberry pussy…"

  Oh, God! Zeke knows about Jamie!

  Reaper squirmed and writhed and pulled at the chains, desperate to break free. He clamped his teeth down on the metal horse bit and garbled out a scream.

  "Let's kill the little shithead already," Slicer screeched, shifting into his human form as he walked up to Zeke.

  Two Toes's mouth dropped open; a greedy look sparked in his eye.

  You wish, sick asshole!

  "Then that Werewolf Whisperer bitch," Dicer added. "She's gonna fuck everything up."

  "Fuck The Werewolf Whisperer," Zeke scoffed. "She can't do a goddamn thing to me."

  Reaper huffed a laugh and yanked on his chains again.

  Lowell's gonna eat you for breakfast!

  Zeke spun around and growled low, his frightening blue eyes flashing in the dimming light. "Something funny, Haywood?"

  Reaper dropped his gaze to the mossy ground and slowly shook his head.

  "Didn't think so."

  "Zeke. Man…" Slicer broke in. "You gotta be careful. The Werewolf Whisperer…"

  Reaper looked up at his Packmate.

  You know. You felt it.

  "She has…" Slicer's voice cracked. "Power."

  "She sure made you her Werebeast bitch!" Dicer bellowed.

  "Shut the fuck up!" Slicer snapped.

  "Ha!" Dicer beat his chest with his fist. "Bitch ain't got no power over me!"

  Zeke reared on Dicer and slammed him into a tree, driving his forearm into the man's chest with bone-crushing force. Blood gurgled from Dicer's gaping mouth.

  "I'm the power!" Zeke roared. "Don't you…don't none of you fucking forget it!"

  Zeke's fury burned out as fast as it had ignited. He carelessly pried Reaper's Hell Hound cut from Dicer's lifeless hand and casually walked away.

  Dicer's limp body slid down the tree and flopped face-first into a small muddy puddle.

  Holy shit!

  The camp went dead silent. No one moved.

  Sour vomit pooled in the back of Reaper's throat.

  Slicer ducked his head and cowered low before the Hell Hound Alpha.

  "Dicer had a point though," Zeke said lazily, as if he hadn't just killed a man. "I can't let The Werewolf Whisperer get in the way." He brushed the dirt off of Reaper's leather vest. "I like it here." He cocked an eyebrow at Reaper. "This is my town now." He ripped the VP patch off the vest. "I got plans."

  The Hell Hound Alpha snapped his fingers at Slicer; the Were jumped to attention.

  "What's Strawberry's name again?" Zeke asked, tossing Slicer the VP patch.

  Don't! Don't! Don't!

  Reaper whined and shook his head at Slicer, pleading for him to keep quiet.

  Slicer caressed the prized patch between his fingers and grinned cruelly at Reaper. "Jamie."

  "Right, Jamie." Zeke looked at Reaper. "She more important than your brothers?" He tilted his head. "Than me?"

  "Please, Zeke," Reaper spit out through the metal bit. A tear escaped his eye.

  "Ah…See that boys…" Zeke ran a razor-sharp nail down Reaper's face. "That's love." He licked the tear off his nail. "Tastes like strawberries."

  "Don't," Reaper whimpered.

  "Time for don't passed." Zeke placed his hands on Reaper's shoulders. "You tried to run."

  Zeke's grip tightened; claws dug into Reaper's flesh.

  Reaper winced and sucked in a breath.

  "You brought that Werewolf Whisperer bitch here," the Hell Hound Alpha said through gritted teeth. "Now I gotta take care of her! Take care of all of them!"

  Morey…

  Zeke ripped his claws from Reaper's shoulders and flung his arms wide. Reaper yowled as blood rolled down his chest.

  Patty…

  The Alpha turned to the MC and bellowed, "No one gets in my way!"

  The Hell Hound camp erupted with whoops and hollers.

  Granny…

  "We get the leftovers!" Maggot shot out and grabbed his crotch.

  Grub locked arms with Two Toes and danced around Dicer's corpse, the man's death vanishing from their thoughts like a ghost.

  Zeke whipped back around, huffing and panting, spitting and snarling, his demon eyes glowing with rage.

  Jamie…

  Zeke shut his eyes and took a deep breath. He slowly raised his hand, silencing the commotion.

  "Seems you got a choice, little brother," he said steadily. "You give up yummy Strawberry…" The Alpha licked his lips. "Stay with the MC…Maybe keep these sick fucks in line…Maybe help out the town…"

  Zeke nodded to Slicer. The Hell Hound second slinked behind Reaper.

  "Or," Zeke continued. "You can run away. Be with Jamie. Either way…"

  Slicer yanked on the horse bit strapped to Reaper's head. Reaper's head snapped back. Metal cut into his cheeks.

  "You gotta pay." Zeke raked the tips of his claws across Reaper's neck. "Now, choose!"

  "Jamie!" Reaper wailed.

  "Damn!" Zeke sneered. "I know you don't give a shit about your brothers." He viciously stabbed a claw into Reaper's chest.

  "Jamie!" Reaper cried out again, his eyes bu
rning with hot tears.

  Turn!

  "But you don't even care about this town." Zeke dug his other claw in. "Do you?"

  Please turn!

  "That's cold."

  Sweat poured down Reaper's face, brutally stinging the cuts on his cheeks. He felt as if he were about to explode.

  Please!

  "No, little brother…"

  Once again, Zeke's will snaked around Reaper and squeezed like a boa constrictor. "You will feel all of this."

  The Hell Hound Alpha slowly scraped his nails down Reaper's chest.

  Inhuman scream after inhuman scream burst from Reaper as Zeke peeled the wolf skull tattoo from Reaper's skin — blood-soaked layer by blood-soaked layer.

  Slicer laughed and yanked hard on the leather straps again.

  Reaper choked, as his Hell Hound brothers cheered.

  Chapter 9

  Broglie

  Granny's Ranch

  Right now

  Lucy flipped open El Gallo's trunk. Their ragtag armory stared back at her: several handguns in lockboxes, a fire axe, a heavy crossbow, various sheathed knives, a small wooden ammunitions box stocked with hand grenades, a flare gun, a roll of chain, a black plastic tool kit, bolt cutters, a length of rope, a canvas bag filled with slip leashes, dog harnesses, thick collars and freezer baggies filled with dehydrated lamb lung treats.

  Lucy reached for a short riding crop she'd purchased at an estate sale.

  "What are you going to do? Spank them?" Xochi snarked and grabbed the large Bowie knife. She fastened the sheath to her leg.

  Lucy drew a hidden blade from inside the stubby whip. "Camel whip. Primitive, but it'll do the job." She slid the weapon into her harness boot and crammed a small box of ammo into her pocket.

  The Remington swung over her shoulder, Xochi sheathed her Karambit knives and tucked away extra shotgun shells. She picked a dark baseball cap from the backseat of the Toronado and shoved every strand of her long blond hair out of sight.

  Dogs still barked wildly from inside the house and from the outdoor kennels.

  Lucy and Xochi crossed the driveway at a hard run and cut through Granny's paddock toward the forest, toward the Hell Hound camp.

  Pausing, Lucy scanned a broad trail of bent grass left behind by a large creature with wide paws.

  Girl's gone furry.

  "So, what are you having Granny do?" Lucy asked Xochi.