Wolf Tales VII. Kate Douglas
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There was a sharp rap on the door. Manda jumped. She glanced at Bay and took a deep breath. Then she called out, “Who’s there?”
“Name’s Ted, ma’am. Me’n my buddies need to use the phone.”
Wide-eyed, Manda glanced at Bay and shook her head. His name is Allen. I recognize his voice. “I’m sorry,” she said, glancing toward the telephone on the table. “We don’t have a phone. You’ll have to go somewhere else.”
Bay heard quiet footsteps as if someone moved carefully across the deck and along the side of the house. He aimed the gun at the back door.
“That won’t work, ma’am. Ya see, we’re looking for someone. A friend of ours. She’s lost. Name’s Manda. You know her? We heard she might be out this way.”
“There’s no one here by that name. You’re trespassing on private property. It’s posted. Now please go.”
“She’d be real easy to spot. She’s different.”
“She’s not here. I said I want you to leave. Now, please.” There was a long silence. Manda wrapped her arms around her waist. She was breathing hard, as if she’d run a mile.
“Sorry to bother ya, ma’am.”
Bay heard the sound of departing footsteps, but he shook his head, nodding toward the back door. Get down. Now!
There was a loud crash. Glass shattered and flew as the back door slammed open. Two men rushed into the kitchen, handguns ready. The third man waited on the deck.
Bay dropped the first with a single shot. The second man spun around when a slug caught his left shoulder. He dropped down behind the kitchen counter, cursing.
The third man took off running, and something primitive clicked in Manda’s brain. She stopped shaking, ripped off her sweats and shifted. Bay reached behind him and opened the front door. With a mighty leap Manda cleared the deck railing and hit the ground at full stride. Bay watched her circle the house and take off after the third intruder.
He hoped it was the one who raped her. Manda deserved her revenge.
He had to trust in Manda’s strength, no matter how much he worried. This was Manda’s battle, one she needed to fight on her own. Besides, Bay still had a wounded and very unwelcome guest bleeding all over his kitchen floor.
They had come looking for a woman who was half human, half wolf. It seemed apropos that a wolf would be the last thing this bastard saw. Slipping out of his clothes, Bay shifted and closed in on his wounded prey.
It was almost too simple to find him. Her heightened senses recognized the man’s scent the moment she entered the woods. Manda wrinkled her nose against the familiar stench. Instead of fear, she felt nothing but anger. This man had raped her. He’d thought her so ugly, he’d gotten drunk first. She’d never forgotten the pain, the humiliation she’d suffered at his hands.
She’d been a helpless creature. Still a child, half wolf, half scared kid, convinced she’d been punished by a vengeful god for committing a hideous sin. She’d accepted the horrible things the men and even some of the women had done to her because she truly believed she deserved a living hell.
What else could she believe? Before he died, her father had caught her masturbating. He’d told her then she would burn in hell, that God would punish her unless she stopped such disgusting behavior.
She hadn’t stopped. And both her parents had died.
When she awakened after the attack that killed them, she’d become a horrible freak, half wolf, half human.
It wasn’t until Baylor showed up on her doorstep and convinced her she was not some deviant, cursed creature, but instead a woman of value, that Manda finally realized none of what happened had been her fault.
She hadn’t deserved their cruelty. Not then, not now. She was Chanku. Trapped in the process of shifting she’d lived as a feral outcast instead of what she really was—a woman deserving of love and compassion, an alpha bitch ripe with power.
Now she herded the man who had once tormented her. Herded him like a stupid sheep, forcing him from trail to trail until he finally entered a blind canyon. She knew the moment he realized he was trapped. Heard him curse and beg as he tried to scramble up the sheer rock face.
She growled and ducked low behind a boulder. He fired his handgun, shooting wildly. Bullets ricocheted off the rock walls of the canyon on both sides of her.
Manda moved closer. The stench of fear and unwashed male assaulted her nostrils. A rabbit jumped from behind a nearby bush and scampered back down the trail. Gunfire followed its path but the bullets pinged harmlessly off rocks and buried themselves in tree trunks.
Finally Manda heard the sound she’d been waiting for—the sharp click as the hammer came down on an empty chamber.
Before he had time to reload, Manda cleared the low barrier of rocks separating them. She caught the man in the middle of his chest and drove him back against the stone wall. Her snapping jaws missed his throat, but the handgun flew from his grasp.
With a panicked scream, he grabbed for Manda’s throat. She twisted free. Snarling, she faced him. Paced back and forth directly in front of him, remembering.
He’d been one of the worst. Quick to cause pain, to embarrass and humiliate her. He’d known she had the mind of an intelligent young woman, but he’d treated her like an animal.
Worse than an animal.
The question was, could she kill in cold blood? His pistol lay on the ground. He was terrified, but unarmed.
She thought.
Suddenly he reached into his boot and pulled out a knife. The six-inch blade gleamed in the sunlight. He rushed forward, swinging wildly.
She went for his wrist first. Her teeth closed around his forearm and she clamped her jaws shut. The satisfying crunch of breaking bone was followed by a harsh scream of pain. The knife clattered to the ground. Manda twisted in midair, hit the ground and jumped again.
This time, she aimed for his throat.
She didn’t miss. He went down without a sound. She ripped into the soft flesh beneath his jaw and then backed away from the spurting blood. His eyes were open, his mouth gasping like a fish out of water.
Manda shifted. Standing tall and proud, naked and perfect, she stared down at the dying man and felt nothing but disgust. “Sorry, Allen. I bet that hurts. Remember me? The little freak you loved to torture?”
He blinked and stared at her, dying but still aware.
“That’s right. I’m Manda. Hard to imagine, isn’t it? Not a helpless, deformed little creature now, am I?” She squatted down and looked directly into his eyes. “I want to be the last thing you see before you reach hell, Allen.”