Game of the Wolf Read online

  “You’ve been taking your sweet time,” she said, not a trace of fear in her voice.

  The beast inside him hesitated, unsure of how to proceed. This wasn’t how things were supposed to go. The wolf had sensed it first, but Silver needed another moment to realize what was wrong.

  Sara wasn’t acting like prey.

  Her smile deepened, and her eyes blazed with brash confidence. She had sized Silver up and wasn’t impressed. And this, more than anything, spiked Silver’s fury. How dare she ruin the moment he’d be looking forward to this whole month? He would wipe that stupid grin off her arrogant face in a spray of red.

  The wolf and Silver unleashed a furious bellow, united in their frustration.

  Sara appeared… bored? She let out a yawn.

  “Are you done?” she asked.

  Silver grew still, his guard suddenly up. Something was wrong here.

  The wolf growled in agreement. If Silver gave up control, the beast would just tear the bitch apart. And where was the fun in that? Hours of exquisite torture would go to waste. No, he couldn’t allow that to happen. He had to get a handle on what was happening here.

  Sara’s scent of terror was all over the cabin. So why had she grown a backbone at the last moment? Had she lost her mind? That had to be it. A complete mental meltdown.

  “I’d say you’re the one having the breakdown, Ali Silver.”

  How did this bitch know his name?

  Sara rose from the rocking chair, and to Silver’s shock, the beast took a step back.

  Predators never back away from prey, he thought, horrified.

  And prey doesn’t point pistols at predators and expect to live to pull the trigger.

  Seeing the gun in Sara’s hand was strangely comforting to Silver. It explained her unusual behavior. She believed herself to be in control of the encounter because of the dinky little pistol.

  He still had no idea how she learned his name, a name he despised with all his heart.

  He wasn’t that man. He wore the human disguise out of necessity.

  He was the wolf, damn it.

  What the hell was going on?

  His thoughts were all over the place. Events were moving too fast, spiraling out of control.

  Sara cocked the gun.

  “I find it fitting that the Luger has seven bullets since you and your beast murdered seven innocent men and women over the last two years. A bullet for every one of the dead feels appropriate, wouldn’t you say?”

  Sara’s words shook Silver to the core. How did she know all this? Had she been spying on him, hunting him even as he stalked her?

  The beast roared in growing frustration, inhuman hunger consuming every fiber of his being. Silver was still struggling to regain control when Sara pulled the trigger.

  A bullet slammed into his chest with devastating force, and he and the wolf howled in agony. This wasn’t the first time prey had fought back. But that last volley of bullets had barely grazed his flesh. Sara’s ammo was different somehow.

  The newly formed hole in his chest fucking hurt. That was different. Wrong. Silver hurt people, but they did not hurt him back.

  Sara squeezed the trigger again and again, apparently determined to unload her entire magazine into him. Every shot felt like a lightning strike, surging along his nerves in burning, howling agony.

  Silver’s increasingly tenuous hold on the beast evaporated in the hail of gunfire.

  The wolf roared and flashed his teeth as the final bullets tore into him, and he flung himself on top of Sara.

  Silver watched unfolding events like a spectator. For the first time since being changed two years ago, the beast was fully in control.

  The wolf’s nails flashed and threw up a spray of red, the creature’s snout turning wet with blood.

  The first swipe sheared off the bottom of Sara’s jaw, exposing the tender meat of her throat. The second severed her right arm from her torso.

  The creature became a berserker after drawing first blood, tearing and clawing and biting through bones and muscle until the woman was nothing but a hemorrhaging doll.

  Even though the creature’s hunger had ruined the fun Silver had been looking forward to, he found himself willing to let the beast do what it wanted. He was just relieved the wolf had wiped that mocking expression off the bitch’s face.

  Relieved that it was all over.

  But Ali Silver was wrong about that.

  It wasn’t over. Not by a long shot.

  Chapter Thirteen

  The wolf loomed over the mauled remains and bayed in ferocious triumph.

  Internally, Silver breathed a sigh of relief. Sara had struck a nerve, exposed his vulnerabilities. The beast inside him abhorred weakness. If the wolf lost respect for him, Silver’s authority would slip away.

  Silver forced his body to turn away from the corpse toward the nearby window. The light of the moon washed over his pelt. He scanned his fur-matted chest where the bullets had pierced him. There were no entry wounds that he could see, so why had the bullets hurt so much?

  And why did his insides burn with hunger after gorging himself on the woman’s flesh and blood?

  Silver intended to devour the bits and pieces that remained of the slain woman, anything to still the fire in the pit of his stomach.

  But another surprise awaited him when he looked down.

  The woman’s bloody remains were gone.

  The wolf howled in frustration. It sniffed the air, and Silver’s hairs stood on end.

  Sara’s scent of terror and despair had grown much weaker. The wolf now detected a new smell in the cabin, and it was becoming stronger. A biting odor of confidence and strength tinged, with darkness and even pain. Silver found this new essence repelling in the extreme, and his instincts told him something was very wrong. It was another predator. They had to leave before it was too late. Right this moment.

  Run!

  The wolf unleashed a guttural roar of agreement and lumbered toward the destroyed doorway. Outside, the moon made the forest shimmer. The light gave the wolf a renewed burst of strength.

  The werewolf rushed toward the exit. It coiled to bound through the open doorway…

  And hit an invisible wall that sent the creature flying in the other direction.

  Silver yelled out in shock as he was thrown halfway across the cabin and came crashing down on the floor.

  He weakly angled his head to see what had stopped him. From this low angle, he made out the strange symbols etched around the doorway. They appeared to be sigils or runes of some kind.

  Silver had never encountered magic before. Even though he was a goddamn werewolf, he didn’t think of himself as something supernatural. Now, faced with forces he didn’t understand and couldn’t control, he felt his grip on the wolf slipping even further.

  Determined to break out of the cabin at any cost, the werewolf stood and dashed toward the nearest window. He flung himself with all the energy he could muster against the glass.

  Inches before impact, the window ignited with brilliant light, and the wolf bounced off the window, too.

  He crashed into a coffee table in an explosion of splinters.

  More wards, he realized.

  A second later, his head slammed into the floor.

  And all the lights went out.

  Chapter Fourteen

  Weylock approached the wolf with a sense of professional caution. A wasteland of destruction surrounded the downed beast. The rocking chair lay in broken pieces, an armchair was knocked sideways, and the shattered, overturned TV would never show Netflix again.

  He stared down at the unconscious monster sprawled on the cabin floor. The terrible grace and savage beauty of this fusion of man and beast were undeniable. He could almost pity it.

  Weylock didn’t hate the wolf as much as he despised the man inside the creature. Ravenous beasts couldn’t help their natures. Red in tooth and claw, right? But man was a different story. Back in the Bureau, he’d been taught to emp
athize with even the most depraved killers. To understand what made them tick, to see how their past traumas had led them to commit their terrible deeds.

  Fuck that.

  He refused to live in a universe where everyone was a victim and where every choice, good or bad, right or wrong, was outside of your control. Some people were comfortable living in a world without heroes and villains. He wasn’t one of them. Not anymore.

  Weylock waited as moonlight gave way to dawn. As the first rays lanced the gutted cabin, the beast changed. Muscle shriveled, fur and claws and teeth receded. The unconscious form on the floor shrunk to human dimensions.

  The naked body of Ali Silver—the real monster—was all that remained.

  Weylock almost wished Sara could be here for the next part.

  Chapter Fifteen

  Ali Silver woke to the smell of fresh-brewed coffee. He blinked, momentarily confused as to his whereabouts.

  All around him, he saw broken furniture. The cabin. He was still in the damn cabin.

  Then the events of the last night came rushing back.

  Dread churned his insides. What the fuck had happened? How had the prey become a predator like that? And what had the bitch done to the cabin’s doorway and windows to trap him here?

  Shaking off the questions for now, Silver stared at his naked body, frail and human. It was revolting to the wolf inside him…but wait. Why wasn’t the wolf reacting to their betrayal and capture? It should have been howling, clawing at the walls, even in the daylight.

  Normally, the day after a transformation, a lingering connection remained. But not this morning. There was only a gnawing emptiness at the core of his being.

  Panicked, Silver jerked to his feet. The rich aroma of fresh coffee tickled his nostrils again, reminding him he might not be alone within these walls.

  He turned toward the kitchenette, where the drip coffee maker was keeping the pot warm. An empty cup sat next to the coffee machine, almost as if someone had left it behind to spook him. The worst part, it was working. His nerves, already on edge, were being stretched to the breaking point.

  He shifted his gaze back to the cabin’s exit. The strange glyphs remained. Had they really lit up and repelled him the other night in a blast of magic?

  Fuck it.

  He had to get the hell out of here.

  His features set into a determined mask, Silver strode butt-naked toward the broken door.

  This time there was no magical explosion to send him ass over teakettle.

  He passed through the door without a problem and stepped into the early morning calm. Last night, the forest had been a twisted fairy tale landscape of gnarled vegetation cast in stark moonlight. Today, the trees appeared green and vibrant and lush, the sunlight bright.

  He winced as the ground bit into his bare feet.

  “A pair of shoes might be an excellent idea.”

  Silver froze at the sound of the male voice. The speaker sounded close, but there was no one within view. He turned in a slow circle, scanning the area.

  “Who’s out there?” Silver demanded.

  Movement caught his attention. His gaze fastened on the stranger who’d emerged from the thick undergrowth. He wore a sharp black suit and white tie, a cup of coffee in his hand.

  Ali’s first instinct was to rush at the man. But he wasn’t the beast any longer. He had to be cautious while in his human form.

  “I was wondering how long it would take for you to get up. I kinda picked you for a late riser, night owl that you are.”

  “Who the fuck are you?”

  “I’m the guy who’s throwing this party.”

  Silver stared daggers at the bastard. The stranger was mocking him. God, how he wished he could unleash the beast at will. He’d tear this cocky bastard apart.

  “Now what sort of party would it be without at least a few guests?” the man continued.

  The question hung in the air for a beat, and then more shapes peeled from the dense shrubbery.

  Silver couldn’t believe what he was seeing. Seven wolves encircled him, snarling and baring their fangs.

  Regular wolves normally recognized and acknowledged the creature in him. Even in his human form, they sensed what he was and kept a respectful distance. Predators were wary of apex-predators. But not these creatures.

  “Why do you think the wards let you leave the cabin when they stopped you the other night, Silver? Why do your feet hurt, and why is your sense of smell suddenly so shitty?”

  The stranger edged toward Silver. He backed away, his fear growing.

  “I took the wolf from you. Not only that, but I gave your power to the victims whose lives you destroyed. They’re here, Silver. And they’re extremely excited to see you.”

  The wolves growled as if to signal their agreement.

  “Do you actually expect me to believe that bullshit?” Silver demanded, his voice sounding shaky even to his ears. “I’m not an idiot…”

  Silver’s words trailed off as the wolves drew closer. Lips raised, eyes narrowed, growls building in their throats.

  And then, as Silver watched in rapt horror, the wolves changed. They morphed into his mauled victims. The walking corpses of the newlyweds whose love had been cut down in full bloom glared back at him, murder and vengeance in their lifeless eyes.

  Silver recoiled with horror from the vision, his world quickly coming unglued.

  “This isn’t possible. I killed you. I killed you all.”

  “You did, Silver,” the stranger acknowledged. “And now it’s their turn. Bon appétit, folks.”

  And with these words, Ali Silver’s victims shifted back into wolves, and the hungry beasts launched at his flabby, pale-fleshed form.

  The first wolf took off his hand. The second knocked him off his feet before winnowing its snout into the soft fat tissue of his paunch.

  Howls bashed the forest as the rest of the pack descended on Silver.

  He screamed the entire time.

  Chapter Sixteen

  Weylock basked in the lush green beauty of the forest while he listened to Ali Silver’s death screams. They echoed through the day the way the screams of his victims had echoed through the night.

  This was the price the infernal entity demanded for the use of its hellish magic. Hexecutioners could control their demon’s power, but they had to indulge the creature’s violent appetites or they might risk losing control of the creature.

  That’s why Weylock didn’t use the demon’s power to cure cancer or stop world hunger. He respected the demon’s savage nature and never forgot the dark power of the weapon he now wielded. To do so would be to risk the demon gaining the upper hand.

  The beast craved violence the way all living things craved sustenance. The demon had to be fed.

  Fortunately, there were plenty of monsters in this world not deserving of any mercy.

  Silver was just one in a long line of monsters who got to experience the Hexecutioner’s wrath.

  Silver’s shrieks for mercy continued to fill the forest.

  The wolves were taking their sweet time.

  Payback was a bitch.

  Chapter Seventeen

  The Day After

  Once again, Weylock sat across from Sara in Nashland’s favorite pub. This time, he watched her eat a hearty breakfast.

  Last night she’d barely touched her food, but now she ate with gusto. She even managed a smile or two in between bites.

  “You sure you don’t want anything?” she asked. “They do great pancakes here.”

  Weylock shook his head, but he smiled back at her. She had transformed overnight from a terrified husk into a vibrant woman once more. He couldn’t help but notice how attractive she was, but he ignored those stirrings. That wasn’t why he was here.

  Yesterday Sara had been a lost soul. Today she was an angel.

  There weren’t many angels in Weylock’s life.

  Once upon a time, though, there’d been Ashley.

  On a physical
level, Sara looked nothing like his dead wife. Sara was blonde, fair-skinned, tall and slender; Ashley had been olive complexioned, dark-haired, luscious. But something about their smiles connected them in his mind.

  Thinking about the love he’d lost gave rise to crushing loneliness. Weylock drained his cup of coffee, almost as if the bitter brew might wash the memories away.

  There was no point in dwelling on the dead. Sara would have to learn that hard lesson in the coming months.

  You had to let go of ghosts. Otherwise, you’d never be able to move on.

  “I checked my phone this morning,” Sara said. “There were no text messages today. It’s really over, isn’t it?”

  “You won’t be hearing from him ever again. He’s gone, Sara. You’re free.”

  “I can’t thank you enough,” she said. “You’ve given me back my life.”

  Sara studied his face, a spark of something in her eyes. Not interest exactly, but a mixture of gratitude and grief and relief.

  It was time to wrap things up. Weylock pulled out a check and slid it across the table. Sara’s eyes went wide, and she stared at him open-mouthed as she read the dollar figure.

  “What is this?”

  “Something to get you back on your feet.”

  Weylock had also paid for the extensive damage the rental cabin had sustained, but she didn’t need to worry about that. The Order he served had already contacted the owner and taken care of all the paperwork.

  She blinked, puzzled. “I don’t know what to say.”

  “How about ‘thank you’?”

  Sara looked back down at the check and then up at him again. “I don’t understand.”

  “You don’t have to.” With these words, Weylock rose to his feet. “I must go now.”

  “Will I ever see you again?” Sara asked.

  He hesitated, a muscle ticking in his jaw. “I hope you never have to.”

  With these words, the Hexecutioner left the pub and headed for his black Mustang.