Once Lost Lords (Royal Scales, Book 1) (17 page)

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Authors: Stephan Morse

Tags: #Science Fiction & Fantasy, #Fantasy, #Paranormal & Urban, #Science Fiction, #Alternate History, #Alternative History

BOOK: Once Lost Lords (Royal Scales, Book 1)
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I headed off. Thinking about it could be done on the way to his
hotel. A little hustle and the hike would only take a few hours. The
walk would save me money and ensure perfect timing. Humans weren’t
nocturnal. Wolves tended to do area checks a few times per night and
go back to sleep.

An hour later I heard a voice.

“Jay.” It was soft, almost a whisper. The scent of
crushed peppermint filled my nose. I looked around expecting to see
Kahina but there was nothing. Just myself, an empty street, and a
stream of words in my head trying to fuel my extra senses.

Moments later I heard it again. A sad whisper of my name, but it was
hers. She was playing games and I wasn’t in any mood for them.
Supposedly she was out looking for me. I hadn’t taken a cab to
disguise my destination. Julianne would have told her anyway.

On my right was a brick wall with ivy choking it. On the left, rows
of mindless little houses were scattered around. I had been taking a
back road through some suburbs to get to another part of town.

“Jay.” The voice came a third time. It was a lot closer.
Both feet halted so I could scan the area again.

“What do you want, Kahina?”

“We need to talk, Jay, about us.” Her words were quiet
and couldn’t be pinpointed despite trying.

“Not now. I’ve got a job.” I said.

“Is that where you’re going?” Then just like that
she was in front of me. Appearing with a burst of speed that set skin
tingling. Her excited face tinted with anger.

At that moment, I understood why she had latched onto me. One side
effect of vampirism was a difficulty to adapt as time passed. To
separate out the recent past from longer memories. Years ago could
seem like days ago.

It made me sad.

“How much longer do you have?” I just asked.

“Not long. I’ve been holding on.” Kahina kicked at
a can laying on the sidewalk.

“Why?” Please don’t say it was for me. Four years,
holding onto the last shreds of humanity for four years. Not a
record, but too long.

“I’ve been getting all the defenses I can into place.
Exactly like we talked about. To protect myself while you’re
gone. So they don’t kill me.”

“Who?”

She smiled, it looked weird against her face. It wasn’t the
feral smile I was used to seeing from her. It wasn’t the angry
excitement, or a sadly twisted expression, just happiness.

“You do care.”

“I don’t want you dead, no matter what,” I paused
and took a breath for a moment “happened between us. I just
don’t want to be dead either.”

“I would never kill you.”

Every time I recalled that night I was filled with uncomfortable
emotions. Not just fear of how close death had been. That was only
part of it. Along side it was mounting outrage, heat crawled up my
throat in an attempt to vent endless hatred for the violation. I had
stayed away for her safety as much as mine. Placing blame on her had
just been easier than admitting my own flaws. Each month it got
easier.

Tonight, seeing her, realizing how she was stuck in the past, was
enough to realize.

“Why me, Kahina? Why am I worth waiting for?” She
couldn’t want a man like me. No one sane would.

“Because you can protect me.”

I laughed at the absurdity of her statement. Me? Protect a person?
Bodyguard wasn’t the game I played, hunting, retrieving,
intimidation, rackets, but not defending people. The only thing that
really mattered was my collection in the basement.

Kahina had fled during the laughter. Her face had been completely
unguarded. There wasn’t only excitement, there was hope. My
amusement had crushed it, leaving a blank slate glaring outward, then
an empty spot where her body used to be.

My elation at this job had dwindled to passive. When, exactly, had we
talked about her protection? Only one conclusion could be made for
sure. I had been a true asshole.

Chapter 11 – Built All Wrong

Locations were categorized into two types when tracking. Those that
received attention from law enforcement, and those that didn’t.
Reasons for not reporting varied from alarm systems, personal armies,
or lack of caring. The hotel that Francis hunkered in was fancy
enough to be one of the former. Barging in and believing I owned the
place was easier in some run down dive. Caesars Junction was a
perfect example.

Controlling the situation should be easy. My clothes and some Sector
issued cuffs would solve most issues. These cuffs were designed with
wolf countermeasures reserved for law enforcement. The slightest
twisting out of shape on them would result in little bumps of
sharpened silver coming to the top. It was designed so that those
points would cut into the flesh of whichever person was unlucky
enough to wear them.

The head Alphas attempted to get them outlawed every year. Every
other government branch focused on control of unruly Pack members.
Normal handcuffs were a joke against wolves. These would keep Francis
in check.

I had to get inside without hotel security calling the police. From
there it was a short hop to the hallway where Francis had parked
himself for the night. Getting past the hired goons would be easy
enough. What better way than to pose as a fourth thug? I looked the
part with my perpetually recovering features.

Getting in was simple. Walking in the lobby and straight for the
elevators didn’t set off anyone’s mental alarms. It was
easier to be ignored by hotel staff if I pretended nothing was wrong.
Acting like I belonged, not hesitating, not moving too fast or too
slow. This was me pretending to be a man returning to the hotel after
a late night.

My footsteps, my hallway, my target, my pray, mine.

Carpet is thin, worn. Walls are layer upon layer of papering
held together by glue. People behind closed doors snore, chat on
phones, stare at ceilings.

Cameras hung above the exits. Getting out the standard ways would be
difficult. Especially if Francis was no longer among the living.

Just off the elevator and down the hall were two of the three hired
guns. They were babbling something to each other in an effort to pass
the time. The third man was probably inside the doorway. That’s
where I would be. Making sure Francis didn’t crawl out in the
morning and avoid paying.

Three humans would be far easier if I took them on away from Francis.
Guns and a wolf combined could take down this big dumb bouncer
easily. Especially since the humans had to be left alive and
relatively unhurt. At least my possessive mindset was functioning a
bit. Tidbits of the world about fed into my sense of touch.

Feet rest against ground. All pressure on heels. One gazes at
nothing. Words rattle out, no meaning. One glances at me, constantly.
Measures. His right-hand grips a gun. Handle is warm. Safety off.

Both my hands came out of their pockets and into the air. Hopefully,
it would help me appear unarmed and sort of harmless, aside from my
size. The hallway was too small for my taste, but that was common.

“Hold up. Who’s this?” The taller one asked. His
hair a muddy color and clothes seemed to share the same selection of
browns and tans.

“I’m here to help,” I responded.

“Don’t know what you’re talking about.” The
tallest seemed to be in charge of this little trio.

“Someone said there was a job here for someone who could hold
off wolves.” Or get a hold of them. My vague words gave me time
to move down the hallway.

“Lot of someones for a lot of nothing. Roll yourself somewhere
else.”

“Damn, man, I could use some cash too.” Daniel’s
accent came out of my mouth.

“I’m sure you could.” The man’s voice was
sarcastic and didn’t seem to hold an ounce of respect for me.
If only I was in my old shape. I would have rolled down this hallway
like a whirlwind of destruction while throwing chairs from the lobby.

“Ever held against a wolf?” I turned to look at the jumpy
one. His hand was still working the grip of his gun. Fingers were
flicking the safety off and on repeatedly. At least it felt like a
safety.

“Sure we have, now get gone before we make you gone.”
Because he would fire those guns in a hotel? Sure, way to get an
unwelcome kind of attention.

The door behind the men opened and the last guard came out. His face
seemed to pause for a moment as eyes shifted from the dark room to
the brighter hallways.

“Boss says if he can hold off a wolf he can stay, but it comes
out of our share.” Said the third one.

“Fuck that.” The tall muddy haired man answered.

Now I just needed him to close the door and separate himself from
Francis. They weren’t clever enough to keep one eye on the
prize. These hired thugs barely knew which end of the gun to point at
the bad guy.

“Here, I’ll show you my piece.” I kept one hand in
the air and started to put the other in a pocket.

“Hold it. What’s that you’re reaching for?”
He asked

“Be cool.” I grinned at him.

“I’ll catch that, you just chill.” There was a
moment where my friendly face slipped. Did he want to reach into my
pocket? And take my things?

“Be careful.” I hope he cuts himself to ribbons. To his
credit, the muddy haired man managed to extract one of the gloves
without much effort.

“Holy shit.” The third one let loose his commitment from
the doorway and stepped out.

“What the hell are these?” The first asked.

“A level playing field,” I responded while glaring at him
and my gloves. He couldn’t help but try it on, an action that
did nothing but annoy me.

“Bet you don’t even have silver bullets.” It’s
easier to sucker punch someone if you get them talking, and with the
door closing all three were outside and away from Francis.

“Sure we…” Muddy head’s next words were cut
off when my shoulder drove into his chest. Our slam cracked the
doorway and expelled air from his lungs. Fingers curled inward and
punched the brown man next to me. He had almost gotten those grubby
untrimmed fingernails around his gun. Nice to know my punches were
still heavy enough to put someone out.

Gunfire went off behind me and grazed one shoulder. I turned while
sweeping my left hand across knocking the firearm away before a
second shot went off. Man three received my fist to the face.
Pleasant sounds of cartilage snapping and grown men crying in pain
filled the air. Blood poured out before the third one even hit the
ground. A swift follow-up kick deterred another attempt at shooting
me.

If these three had been wolves, or vampires, or remotely good at
their jobs then this might have gone completely different. The fun
part, the wolf, was inside and a lot tougher. Hopefully.

I pried my glove out of mud head’s grasp. Both claws slide into
place. There was a rush of noise as I opened the door. Heavy grunting
warned me just before tactile overload did. Something large and heavy
was being heft.

Quickly I dashed inside and pressed against the wall. A heavy object
hurled past and slammed crosswise into the doorway. A growl of
frustration preceded metal grinding in protest. My tactile senses
picked up other details. A heavy body turning away. Metal framed
glass sliding upward. Francis was going for the window.

The possessive droning in the back of my mind fell apart as I rushed
to catch up. One foot banged into a dresser, hands fumbled to get
around the chair and coat rack. In the seconds it took to travel
across the room Francis had already leaped out. Part of me was
flattered a wolf had jumped three stories to get away from me.

I flipped on a light and looked around for a sign on where he was
headed, car keys, anything that would let me chase after him.
Instead, there was a ticket for a train out of town. Good enough.

The ticket quickly went into a coat pocket and I looked out the
window again. He made good time while not in full wolf. His legs
certainly pumped furiously. Mentally I weighed options. Francis
wouldn’t risk shifting. He had a slight limp from the landing.
I had his escape route right here. Half the pack was on the lookout.

But he was mine. This was my chance to start really rebuilding my
life.

Head snaps. Old sensations flood in. Need this. Need enough to
let loose, for a moment. Just a moment. Prey is so close. Back burns
from unused muscles. Arm itches in reminder of things being
forgotten. World goes black for a brief moment. Hear air ripple as it
catches.

Sudden free falling and a rush of wind caused me to panic. Both arms
were windmilling wildly as legs fluttered. A sudden backward jerk
sent pain through both shoulders. My frightening descent lost most
momentum. Feet slammed down into the ground and then I was running
after him. There was a little voice in the back of my head screaming
about what I had just done. I should be broken. Leaping out the third
story was not something humans did.

The other part of me was hauling ass across the dimly lit parking lot
towards Francis. I could figure out the jumping and surviving thing
later. Ahead of me was a wolf who needed to be punched in the face.

Rapid fire thudding of footsteps echoed across the street. Francis
turned with a quick jerk of neck muscles. Terror crossed his face.
His eyesight was better than mine. I was going on a barely registered
set of reactions to the objects around me. The scum wolf kept looking
over while tipping anything nearby. A garbage can, newsstands, I
hurdled over them all while closing the gap. I twisted backward to
dodge swirling lamppost I felt flying through the air. Francis’
heartbeat had grown stuttered, face flushed, eyes strained.

Nearby was a shoe, then another. A shirt fluttered by. He wasn’t
limping as badly now and if he completed the shift I would never
catch up. Four legs sped way faster than two.

Oh Hell.

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