Uncommon Animals: Omnibus Edition

Uncommon Animals:

Omnibus Edition

Kate Whitaker

Copyright © 2014 Crimson Heart Publications

Published by Crimson Heart Publications at Smashwords

Smashwords Edition License Notes

This ebook is licensed for your personal enjoyment only. This ebook may not be re-sold or given away to other people. If you would like to share this book with another person, please purchase an additional copy for each recipient. If you’re reading this book and did not purchase it, or it was not purchased for your enjoyment only, then please return to Smashwords.com or your favorite retailer and purchase your own copy. Thank you for respecting the hard work of this author.

— For Aunt Karen, who likes all the stories together

Table of Contents

The Hunted

Hunting

The Hunter

The Haunt

Hunted Down

The Hunt at the Haunt

Hunter’s Moon

Thank You for Reading

— For Jay, who doesn’t always get it, but still laughs and listens

Ter, he’s back!

Terry smiled as she rolled her eyes and tried to keep her attention on the invoice she was typing. She loved her boss, she really did, but some days the woman acted like a teenager.

Terry, Jennelle waved a hand in front of her monitor, disrupting Terry's view, "he has a tattoo on his back! I know this because his shirt is untucked and starting to ride up. This means skin, hun." The older woman tugged on her arm. Terry saved the invoice with a laugh. Jennelle wouldn’t leave her alone until she took a look.

Already the manager stood in the office doorway smoothing her just-long-enough-for-work skirt and adjusting her top. She had been lusting over this ‘delivery boy’ for a month.

I left my damn glasses on my desk, she said. What is that climbing off his ass?

Jennelle complained about her eyes or gaining weight, but she looked damn good for a woman with a few years on Terry’s mother. Light crow’s feet meant nothing on a statuesque six-foot-frame, with bright blue eyes, porcelain skin, and chestnut hair. Terry had never been embarrassed by her slim build growing up, but she felt like a boy with breasts standing next to her boss.

Terry leaned against her doorway to casually look out into the hall. She needn’t have bothered as the object of her boss’ dubious affections had his back to them.

And a damn fine back it was broad, tan, and muscular. The sandy haired man it belonged to managed to fill out the silly brown shorts and matching shirt pretty well as he laughed with Jessie at the receptionist desk.

"You can’t call this one a delivery boy anymore," Terry whispered, pushing her straight black hair out of her eyes to get a better look.

Don’t get snarky with me. Jennelle snickered into her hand, trying to muffle the sound. She dated men younger than Terry all the time, and this delivery boy seemed to be the next one on her list. Now what is that tattoo, smart ass?

Terry took a closer look, and her stomach dropped. Something… abstract. Her eyes traced the black and red whorls that climbed the skin she so recently admired. I can’t make out the picture.

No, no, no. Not now, not here.

Her heart pounded in her chest, as fear closed her throat. It had been three years. She had friends, a job, and an apartment.

I’ll have to find out for myself. Jennelle posed in the doorway, long legs crossed at the ankle, waiting for him to pass.

That tattoo in this building… Do I believe in coincidences that big?

As the man turned, she stepped back into her office. She didn’t want him to see her face. She breathed deep, her heart thumping as she ignored Jennelle’s voice and she walked to her desk.

Terry shut down her computer, her mind already on what needed to be done. She changed into her sneakers, thankful the older women in the office had talked her into carrying a pair. She might have to run. Her work flats would slow her down.

Ter, honey, where are you going?

Terry blinked, the concern in Jennelle’s voice breaking through her blind panic.

I- I'm sorry, it's one of my headaches. Terry rubbed at a temple. It wasn’t a complete lie.

She glanced at her now black monitor. The clarity of adrenaline made her features stand out. The olive of her skin appeared pale on the screen and her dark eyes too wide in her thin face. Terry concentrated on trying to look less terrified. No point in letting everyone know she was spooked.

Oh hun, it’s been weeks since you had one, Jennelle said. Can you get home by yourself?

If I hurry. Terry shoved her flats into her bag.

Take your pills and head right to bed. Sympathy dripped from her boss’ voice. Gina will take care of the Mayfair account. She’s a little overwhelmed but…

Thanks. Terry cut Jennelle off as she stood up, grabbed her bag, and hurried out the door. I’ll see you tomorrow. She wished it wasn’t a lie.

She enjoyed this job. Most people complained about being in the billing department, but Terry loved the sheer simple banality of it. She felt so utterly normal.

Terry hurried down the back stairs, pulling her car starter out of her purse, and her taser. The elevator would take her to the front of the building, where a delivery truck would be parked. The stairs exited to the garage, though.

The five flights of concrete steps were agony. Each new landing was fraught with uncertainty, and every corner filled with shadows she peered into with fear.

Terry started the car as soon as she hurried into range, but didn’t unlock it until she was right at the door. Once inside she locked the doors, jacked up the stereo, and breathed again. She drove calmly to the entrance. She wanted to peel out in a blaze of burning rubber, but leaving early was suspicious enough.

She'd always been ready to run, she’d even found a place right off the highway, a brown brick building full of young professionals and old people. Someone moved in or out every few days. She would be forgotten in a week.

For once, she found a parking spot in front of her building, but the thought of walking out into the open made her heart rate skyrocket again. Her head throbbed harder. She fingered her mp3 player, but she knew hearing a footstep might be her only warning.

She bolted from her car, making her way to the building's security door. She’d spent hours at her window watching the slow sweep of the lone security camera. She didn’t exist on a single frame, today wasn’t an exception. Her hands shook so badly it took two tries to punch in the access code for the building.

Once inside, she eschewed the elevator again, pounding up the stairs to the beat in her temples. She didn’t know if it was exertion or fear, but a heavy sweat made her thin blouse cling to her skin.

Her hands still shook, the one that unlocked the door, and the one holding her taser. Terror motivated her search of the dark corners for intruders. Once she was sure the apartment was empty, she locked the doors, double checked windows, dug her mp3 player out of her purse, and thanked whatever being gave the world techno. Now that she was safe, hearing would be a detriment.

The steady pulsing beats soothed her almost as well as a pill. She needed some kind of soothing. She had too much to think about, and no time to shake off the effects of her anti-anxiety meds if she decided to run.

Her mind flashed to the tanned back of the delivery boy. That tattoo, those flowing lines, like air… a Speaker.

After all this time…

She had been in Pittsburgh for nearly a year. Cleveland a year before that. She hadn’t seen a Speaker since Chicago. They nearly caught her there.

I miss Matty.

Terry shook her head, banishing the memories of her failure.

Terry paced around her cozy living room. Run or fight. That decision needed to be made right now.

It might be a fluke. Even Speakers paid bills. Her own Speaker bagged groceries when ends needed to be met.

There was only one way to make sure they weren’t hunting her. She needed to hunt them.

Terry took off her suit jacket, stretching out her arms. It felt good to have a target after five years. As the jacket hit the floor, it took ‘Terry, the billing associate’ with it. It had been fun being Terry; kind, helpful, came to the office early, stayed late, always paid for takeout. Terry thrived on being normal.

Werewolves weren’t allowed to be normal, and Mina knew it.

There was a hope, however small, that this Speaker was just doing his day job. That she panicked over nothing. Mina refused to count on it.

The rest of her work clothes, her sneakers, and finally her ear buds lay abandoned. She paused to fold her clothes. Gods willing, she might be back, and she really did like that suit.

Mina drew in a deep breath, thinking of her brother. He had been the one to discover the Speakers were lying to them, to all the werewolves. The moon didn’t make them into monsters, and changing without a Speaker wasn’t impossible. Oh, but it did hurt.

She remembered that first unassisted change and had to force down panic at the memory. The pain of her bones breaking and rearranging under her melting, boiling skin still made her wake in a cold sweat some nights. Speakers somehow kept that agony at bay.

But we don’t need them to change. If they lied to us about that, what else did they lie about?

That question made Mina and her brother fugitives. She hadn’t seen Matty since Chicago. It had been smarter to split up after that day. She wasn’t even sure if he was still alive. She could only hope.

Mina realized she was trying to put off the change. Hesitation meant death. The Speakers taught her that years ago. She took several deep breaths but still couldn’t change. The memory of the pain was too strong.

Mina closed her eyes. She must change. She had to know if they found her. The wolf could track and fight if it came down to it. Mina couldn’t do those things. Mina could only sit and wait for the Speakers to find her.

She felt it then, the toggle in her soul. It hit ‘wolf’ and the searing pain started, the acid on her brain, leaving her mind fuzzy and drifting. The snapping of her bones was muffled by her skin as she slammed to the floor. The sensation shocked her to consciousness as always, a wave she could ride through the change. She needed to be awake when it was over. You could never let the wolf take over; the Speakers hadn’t lied about that. Chicago had proved it beyond a doubt.

She knew the change lasted about a minute, but it seemed to take hours. The final pain ended, the fur that erupted all over her body with its scraping burn, and Mina whimpered as she rose to her paws.

She breathed deeply. Her fear still hung in the air, but there was no other human scent in the place. Mina shuffled around the apartment, checking every corner, making sure no one had been there. Hope ignited when her place came up clean. She trampled it down. She might be back to collect some clothes, but staying in this city was no longer an option.

Mina cleared her mind of all the miscellaneous thoughts, focusing on the hunt. She had spent hours figuring out every possible way of escape, then weeks practicing. The window in her bathroom opened easily with her paw and her head. It was just big enough for her to squeeze through. Mina skittered along the ledge to the roof to the fire escape. She leapt the last four feet to the ground with ease. Sticking to the shadows, she headed toward the highway. Her pointy ears perked up, listening for anything suspicious.

She needed to get back to the city. Unfortunately, this wasn’t like Moscow. People would notice a canine on the train here. Not to mention hunting was popular in Pittsburgh. People got the first day of hunting season off around here, just like back home in Saskatchewan. Someone might even realize she was a wolf and not a shepherd mix.

Speakers trained wolves for these occasions. She slunk up a concrete support for an overpass and crouched. It wasn’t long until a truck stopped at the red light. She jumped to the bed of the truck, landing lightly. She sniffed, but the driver’s scent never changed. Mina pressed herself against the cold metal and waited.

The nostalgia surprised her. She hadn’t realized how much she missed hunting. She’d been one of the best demon hunters in the Tribes before she and Matty rebelled. Unlike the stories humans told, most demons didn’t have a special weakness. Simply separating the head from the body was the fastest way to kill a demon, though it was also the fastest way to kill almost anything.

Werewolves were natural hunters. The human brain melded to the animal senses made one of the most formidable killers in the world. Add a body that healed quicker than any human and two Speakers and four wolves made an astounding team, able to keep a small town safe.

We saved lives. We deserved the truth.

Instead, Matty had found a web of half-truths and outright lies. Maybe it had been for their ‘own good.’ Transforming on your own was painful and dangerous. If you didn’t stay conscious…

Then the shepherd turns on the sheep.

No incidents in three years proved the Speakers wrong.

If I went back to the Speakers, I’d never have one again.

Mina closed her eyes. There was no going back. Not unless they told all the werewolves the truth. Mina wouldn’t allow the lies to stand, and neither would Matty. Their brothers and sisters put too much on the line to be abused.

The truck trundled through the tunnel into the city. Mina waited for a red light and hopped out, wishing the sun was down. As she hurried into the concrete forest, a man’s voice called out, Hey man, your dog just ran off!

Her lips opened in a lupine smile as Mina trotted on the narrow, twisting streets of downtown. Her office building was right off the last train stop, which would make tracking the truck difficult but not impossible.

Matty was always better at tracking.

She’d picked up a few tricks from her brother. Mina thought back to the moment when the Speaker passed the door to her office. She had taken that deep breath on instinct. Despite her rather lackluster sense of smell as a human, her brain still stored the memory of the scent, and the wolf nose could access it now.

That scent… the chemically clean smell of modern humans, his favorite shampoo, his body wash, his hair products, underneath it the salt of human, and then the undertone, the scent of him. Her human mind thought it smelled like mint, fresh but earthy.

Mina snuffled around the front of the building, her eyes on Stuart, the guard. He’d chase her off if she stuck around too long, but it only took moments to find that chemical and natural scent. It combined with the exhaust smell of the delivery truck, but this Speaker drove with the doors open. Mina could track his scent through the city.

She lost him once or twice in the traffic downtown. A quick search of the street recovered the scent. As the truck moved out of the city it was easy to follow.

As the sun set purple and pink over the rivers, she hid near the warehouse where the Speaker worked. Mina crouched in the tall, flowering weeds to watch the drivers. They stood in a cluster, sharing stories, a few smoking cigarettes. Their normalcy made her blood boil under her fur.

The Speaker laughed with them, trading anecdotes from the day of driving. Mina wondered if he would mention Jennelle.

He stood taller than most of the others and moved gracefully. Looking him over now, he appeared too well built for a truck driver, but then most Speakers were competent fighters.

Slowly the other drivers left, asking the Speaker, Rick, if he needed a ride. He shook his head. His roommate was running late. Mina shivered in the weeds. The roommate was another Speaker, or a wolf. In her world, nobody lived alone.

No matter which, wolf or Speaker, common sense said to follow them. She’d listen from a distance, see if they were looking for her. Then she should run with the dawn.

She could head south. A little sunshine sounded good after the long winter, but she liked being Terry. She liked Jennelle and her boys and Gina had probably screwed up the Mayfair account again. Terry had just straightened it out.

She loved ice skating at PPG Place in the winter and French fries on her sandwiches. Besides, the new kid they had just drafted, Polamalu, had some real promise. She bought her Terrible Towel last week.

She had been chased too many times. This was her city. She didn’t want to leave, she wanted to fight back.

This will end like New York, but this time they’ll keep coming.

The voice sounded like Matty’s. Mina shook her head. Matty might be dead, and it was all the Speakers’ fault. They should have told the truth.

Mina settled in the weeds to wait. As soon as the last car left the parking lot, she started towards the Speaker. The tall chain link fence made a laughable barrier. The reek of dog led her to a section with a small ditch already dug. Her canine far-cousins adapted well to the city.

Not a stalk of weeds trembled from her passing as Mina crept up on the Speaker. She noted with amusement that his shirt was tucked in again, his Speaker tattoo hidden.

I saw it, though. Too bad for you, Rick.

Mina stalked up the edge of the gravel parking lot. Rick still stared at the dark road in the distance. She gathered her legs and pounced.

Rick spun, and Mina couldn’t stop her jump. She slammed face first into the Speaker’s metal clad punch. She dropped to the ground, whimpering. She could smell her blood, but she was dizzy and unable to focus.

Rick wrestled her to the ground, pinning her easily with one knee. He took off the brass knuckles and shook out his hand. Mina hoped he had a broken finger or two. He pulled a syringe out of his uniform shirt pocket before smoothing back the hair on her neck. She wriggled, trying to scratch at his legs, but couldn’t manage to reach him.

I can’t believe you attacked, he said as the tip of the needle pricked her skin.

Rick blurred as her neck burned. The world faded to black. Mina couldn’t stop it.

She woke up paralyzed. Her arms and legs alien to her.

Arms and legs?

They had changed her back. Humiliation curdled her stomach. Bile rose in her throat. She bit down on a gag and screamed. Panic rising, she threw herself to her knees, still screaming into the wad of cloth in her mouth.

She’s up, a vaguely familiar voice said.

Dammit! When? This voice was entirely unknown.

A door slammed shut. Mina screamed into the gag again.

Just now. Rick squatted and she wanted to rake the concern out of those gray eyes. Mina, I want to talk to you. If you stop screaming, I’ll take out the gag.

Mina’s breath came in hitches as she tried to calm down. She nodded. She didn’t have much of a choice.

Okay, my partner is going to cut the gag off. Rick’s voice fought for soothing. No need to panic when he touches your head.

Mina breathed through her nose, trying to tamp down her fear. As she flexed her arms and legs, she heard the clink of metal, but the cuffs weren’t what held her so stiff. They had her trussed for a change. The metal harness on her body dug deep into her muscles and mated to the pinch at her neck. The overlapping series of chains ran from neck to knees. One of them would have hold of the chain that ran off the harness at all times. If she tried to change, a sharp tug on the chain would jerk the harness tight and dig the pinchers on the collar into her neck.

At best, she’d