The Monster Hunters

  Out of practice, but he’s a pretty good kisser.

  A minute later, Harbinger gently disengaged himself. “Well . . .” He cleared his throat. “We’d better get going.”

  “So, that’s a date, then, Harbinger?”

  “You can call me Earl. Just don’t take that to mean I won’t still shoot you if you go all homicidal crazy on me.”

  Heather put her hands on her hips. “There you go, spoiling a perfectly sweet moment.”

  Harbinger winked. “Well, I would feel really bad about it.” He jerked his thumb at the last snowmobile. “Need a lift?”

  “Why, I thought you’d never ask.”

  Chapter 30

  The Alpha’s roar shook the building. Dust trickled from the ceiling, dislodged by his bellow, as he stomped down the catwalk.

  The wait was agonizing. The amulet was like a burning patch of hate welded to his chest. Even while it fed him, it taunted him with its untapped potential. The power was so very close, nearly at his fingertips, yet the spirit of the forerunner would not give up its secret until this last challenge had been met. He was already a hundred times the man he had been, yet there was still so much more to take.

  Dawn was coming too quickly and threatening to ruin everything. Lucinda Hood had warned him that the last vestiges of her spell would fade along with the dark. Soon Copper Lake’s story would be told to the world. Time was slipping away, but still the amulet told him to wait . . . .

  He had thought about just denying the amulet’s order and fleeing as originally planned. Having been raised to always be careful, to always plan for multiple contingencies, to never bite off more than he could chew, this was extremely frustrating. The smart thing to do was to retreat, regroup, and assess his next move. For once training and instinct were in agreement.

  Fear kept him in place. The Alpha was worried that if he disobeyed the amulet now, then it would never find him worthy again. He would still be the greatest, but it would be like having one hand tied behind his back for the rest of his nearly immortal life. He would never fulfill his destiny like that. The anxiety tore at his guts. His fist left an indentation in a steel beam.

  “I need counsel,” he muttered to himself. The pack members that were attending him hung back, terrified at his outbursts. He’d already eaten a few of them, and they didn’t even know why. The shadow that remained of his humanity could understand their fear, but the new part was disgusted by their cowardice. “Bring me the prisoner.”

  The werewolves fled, and the Alpha went back to pacing back and forth on the catwalk overlooking the base of Shaft Six. The catwalk crossed the center of the large space. There were stairs up and down at both ends. He was directly above the massive rusting cable spindles of the deactivated elevator. Being cooped up in this tomb was frustrating.

  They returned a few minutes later with a ragged human hanging between them. His head had been covered in a bag, but the blood stains on his torn shirt told the rest of the story. It had been necessary to beat him severely during his capture. That had not been part of the plan, but he had resisted fiercely when the witch’s minions had magically appeared in his home. There was no way he would have come willingly, so it had been necessary.

  It pained the Alpha’s heart to see him in such sorry shape. He should have realized there was no way he would have gone down without a fight. “Put him down.” His werewolves did so, and they were wise to do it as gently as possible.

  “Get your filthy paws off of me!” the prisoner shouted as the pack withdrew. The prisoner struggled to his knees, and the tilt of his covered head indicated that he was already listening, looking for an angle, for some means to escape. The Alpha walked across the catwalk and pulled the bag from the prisoner’s head.

  Kirk Conover blinked his blackened eyes as they adjusted from the complete darkness of the bag to the gray dimness of the mine building. Finally, they adjusted enough for him to make out the thin man standing before him in a big black coat and a wide-brimmed hat. “Let me go, Adam. It’s not too late to fix this.”

  The Alpha shook his head and chuckled. “Hey, Dad.”

  Kirk Conover’s hands had been tied behind his back for his own protection. He was still spry for his age and doubtlessly had a few tricks up his sleeve since he had, after all, been trained by the best. He was already looking for something to use to his advantage. This was an endearing trait to the remaining sliver of humanity in the Alpha’s heart, but it just made the growing power of the Alpha’s inner monster that much angrier. The Alpha whispered for it to be still. He needed wisdom, and his father had always had plenty to spare.

  There were cobwebbed chains and pulleys dangling above the catwalk, but nothing that Kirk could utilize with his hands tied. Inventory completed of his situation, still hopeless, Kirk turned back to his son. “You need to listen to me. This is crazy. Stricken will lose it when he finds out what you’ve done.”

  The government didn’t like when its supernatural operatives went rogue, and they were usually dealt with harshly. “I’m not scared of Stricken.”

  “You should be. I don’t know what you think you’re going to accomplish here, but it’s wrong.”

  The Alpha leaned against the cold metal railing of the balcony. “This is bigger than me, Dad. This is destiny. You wouldn’t listen. Nobody would listen before, but they’re not going to have a choice now.”

  “It’s that witch I met earlier. I don’t know what she’s put in your head. She’s a demon’s concubine, Son. I recognize her from the briefings. It’s that Hood girl. She comes from a long line of necromancers. We’ll just explain to Stricken that she brainwashed you.”

  “Do you really have any room to talk about brainwashing? I’m not the one that made my own child into a weapon. Oh, never mind.” Long experience told him where that line of reasoning would take them. There was no need to refight old battles. They’d just have to agree to disagree. “I recruited her, not the other way around. This is my plan. Her god is just along for the ride. I’ve been working on this operation for three years. . . .” The Alpha paused to let that sink in.

  He could see the pain in his father’s eyes as he realized what that meant. “Even . . . before your mom died?”

  “Since I saw the bones of the forerunner. It showed me things. The visions were stronger than the fake thoughts Mom stuck in my head and made me think were my own.”

  Dad gasped like he’d just been kicked in the stomach. He started to speak, then stopped, nervous and confused. That would have been unexpected. Mother had used her siren gifts to keep him calm and rational during the full moon, but she had also tried to keep him from pursuing his vision, and that had been simply unforgivable. When she’d begun using her powers to try to make him forget about the amulet, that’s when it had become necessary to get her out of the way.

  He’d always loved his mom. Considering their lifestyle, and the fact he’d been killing people for various black operations since he was a teenager, they’d actually had a pretty normal relationship. His parents had been just, kind, and had done their best to raise him as a normal child, despite his gifts. There had been a lot of love in their home. So that’s why, when it came time to remove Mom, he’d made sure the accident had been as quick and painless as possible.

  Obviously, he couldn’t tell that to Dad. There was no need for him to know how far things had gone just yet. Dad would never come around then. “I wish I could show the forerunner’s visions to you. Then maybe you’d understand. . . .”

  “But, your mother . . . Once she passed away, and you didn’t have her to help you, I thought maybe you—”

  “Went crazy? No. Nothing like that. Sure, Mom’s singing kept me on the straight and narrow, soothing the savage beast and all, just like before, but that didn’t mean I couldn’t plan for the future. I know you thought you were doing me a favor, helping hold back the wolf, but we both know you were just keeping me under control. I wasn’t meant to be a slave.”

  “You weren??
?t a slave,” Kirk sputtered. “If we hadn’t agreed to work for them, they would’ve killed you. But you were the best they’ve ever had. You were serving your country. You did great things!”

  “Sure, but I’m meant for greater things,” he tried to explain to his father for the hundredth time. “You never listen to me. None of you humans ever listened to me.”

  “But, son, you’re human, too.”

  “ENOUGH!” The blast of noise made his father cringe. He was sick of this argument, and if his father dared pursue it much further, he’d be staring at a pile of his own steaming entrails. “I don’t have to explain myself to you. That’s not why I brought any of you here.”

  “Where’s here? And who else are you talking about?”

  “We’re in Copper Lake, Michigan. Heard of it?” he asked, already knowing the answer. Kirk’s face went very pale. “Ah, of course you have. . . . Imagine that. And did you know that I once read a report about an artifact that might have ended up around here somewhere? Guess what?” The Alpha tapped his chest. “Found it, way down that hole right over there. Damn thing took forever to get to. And I’m the one that brought Nikolai here. Had to gut his wife to do it, too. Turns out he wasn’t as bloodthirsty as you made him out to be.”

  “Maybe he mellowed with age.” Kirk’s eyes narrowed as he realized just how unstable his son had become. “What’s your game, Adam? What’re you playing at?”

  “I made sure you saw the bulletin about Petrov. Sure, you’re retired, but once Unicorn, always Unicorn. I knew you’d call Harbinger. You and Mom used to talk about him like he walked on water, like he was supposed to be some sort of role model for me or something. Of course you’d call your old buddy Mr. Wolf, and all I had to do was sit back and enjoy the show. . . . I actually thought you’d have come yourself, but I guess you’re getting a little old for field ops. I wanted you here, too, though, kind of like you’re attending my graduation. Sorry about Lucinda’s digger roughing you up.”

  “What happened to Earl?”

  “He’s dead. Once I knew he was the one, I tore his soul out.”

  “No, not Earl,” Kirk stammered. “Why?”

  The Alpha patted the amulet tenderly. “He lives on in me. Ironic. I guess he lived up to that name he picked when he was with you. Harbinger. One who prepares the way. I wonder if the forerunner was whispering to him when he picked that name?”

  “You ungrateful little bastard,” his father snapped. “Earl saved my life and your mother’s. If it hadn’t been for him—”

  “I’d never have been a werewolf.” The Alpha smiled.

  It was another painful revelation for Kirk Conover. The man was barely able to form the words. “You . . . you know?”

  They had tried to keep him in the dark, and, like everything else, they’d failed. “I pieced it together. Most of the files on your original task force had been redacted, but I narrowed it down to two possibilities—Harbinger or Petrov. You never told me who it was, so I invited them both. Harbinger was the superior. He felt right. It was him, wasn’t it?”

  Kirk just nodded.

  “So, he was my real father.” The Alpha pumped his fist in the air. “Ha! I knew it.”

  “I’m your father.”

  “My human father,” he sneered. “Cut me in thirds, and that’s the most pathetic bit. Part god, part king of the beasts, and what? Human? You want me thank you for my worst parts? You rate a card on Father’s Day, but that’s about it.”

  The light in Kirk’s eyes died. He bowed his head. “Your mother would be very disappointed in you.”

  The Alpha grabbed his father by the throat and lifted him into the air. It took all of his reason to stop from ripping the insolent little man in half and throwing him over the rail. Disgusted, he tossed Kirk back on the catwalk. The old man hit the cold metal with a grunt of pain.

  This hadn’t been what the Alpha was hoping for at all: adversarial, bitter. He’d been hoping for guidance, but now he understood that had only been his remaining humanity being weak and needy. Let it wither and die. It was better this way.

  “I didn’t abandon man. Man abandoned me. I’m not an attack dog to be kept on your master’s leash. I’m the first of a new kind. I’m the next stage of evolution.” The Alpha felt the amulet burn hotter. The challenge was close. “And I’m only one step away from perfection.”

  Kirk didn’t look up. “My son is dead.”

  The Alpha was angry that the words actually managed to sting him still. He shouted at his pack. “Put the human back in his cage.” He stomped off to face his final challenge. “I’ll deal with him later.”

  “What’s the plan?” Stark asked.

  Earl studied the Quinn facility through his binoculars. The place was a huge, twisting warren of old buildings and rusting machinery. Heather had said that the tallest structure was Number Six. It was an imposing gray rectangle that dominated the facility. To reach it would require covering a lot of forest, breaching the perimeter, and making their way through a maze of potential ambushes.

  At least it was all downhill from here, literally. Earl adjusted his position, trying to find a more comfortable way to lie prone on an icy boulder. Body aching, muscles sore, freezing, bandages pulling . . . He’d forgotten just how much being human could suck. He put down the binoculars and took out a smoke. Then decided against it. Wind was in their favor, but that could change soon enough. He put the pack away with a belabored sigh.

  “Plan?” Stark asked again.

  Sneaking in would be impossible against that many hyper-sensitive werewolves. The fence was only chain-link, but it was topped in razor wire. Heather and Nikolai could hop it, but the rest were going to have to go through the gate. A full-on frontal assault was their best option.

  They were three hundred yards away, on a ridge that provided them with solid cover and a good field of fire. The sun would be coming over the hill any minute, and it would be at their backs. He really couldn’t ask for much more. However, it was easy to forget that he’d been up all night, and exhaustion had set in. A tired Hunter was a stupid Hunter, and they couldn’t afford any mistakes. He needed another opinion. “Nikolai?”

  The werewolf was so quiet and motionless that it was easy to forget he was only a few feet away. “You are thinking what I’m thinking?”

  “Square peg. Square hole. Go with our strengths.”

  “What?” Stark looked back and forth between them. “What’s he thinking?”

  “Yes,” Nikolai answered. “I’m fastest. I will secure the gate. The rest provide covering fire and eliminate the sentries from here.”

  “What sentries?” Stark asked.

  Earl handed Stark the binoculars. “First building in, two stories. Looks like an office. Top window, several of them moving in there.”

  “At least three more roaming inside. Two more in the trees just outside the main gate,” Nikolai said. “Do not bother to look. You will not see them.”

  “You a good shot, Agent Stark?”

  “Qualified expert.”

  Earl grunted. Maybe in his prime. Stark gave him the impression of somebody who spent a lot more time manning a desk than practicing at the range. “Recently?”

  “Recent enough,” Stark snapped.

  Shaking his head, Earl slid back down the boulder. The other two followed him. Stark made more noise than he had, but Nikolai made far less. They made their way through the trees toward where the others were waiting. The snowmobiles were handy, but loud, so they’d parked at the base of the ridge and hiked in. The snow had made for treacherous footing, especially with seventy pounds of recoilless rifle and ammo on his back.

  Heather, Jason, and Aino were crouched in a small ravine below. Aino was using a headlamp with a red lens, still searching Aksel’s journal for anything that might help. Jason raised his gun when he heard a branch snap above, then lowered it when he saw his new employer. Earl slipped and slid down the last twenty feet. Exhaustion and grace were mutually exclusive, but he tried
to make it look like he’d meant to do that. Stark lost it halfway down the incline and tumbled the rest of it, making Earl look like a ballerina in comparison. Nikolai leapt off the top and landed quietly at the bottom. Show-off.

  “We on?” Heather asked. While he’d been scouting, she had cut a hole in the middle of the gray wool blanket to stick her head through and tied a length of paracord around her waist to secure it. It made for a semi-passable poncho, more for modesty than to protect her against the elements. She was still missing pants and barefoot but had his coat on under there. Earl didn’t mind. He figured Travis would have approved of Heather’s general attitude.

  “We’re on. Nice poncho, by the way.” Heather took up the edges of the blanket and curtsied. The rest of the group gathered around Earl. “We set up there,” he pointed at the ridge above. “Shoot the hell out of anything that moves while Nikolai runs in. On my mark we follow.”

  “The pup can follow me, if she can keep up. Once inside, stay out of my way,” Nikolai said. “When I am excited, it can be . . . difficult to tell friend from foe.”

  Earl grabbed Nikolai roughly by the sleeve. “Don’t you dare hurt anybody on our side.”

  Nikolai struck Earl’s hand away. “If you’d followed that advice yourself, we wouldn’t be in this predicament now, would we?” Nikolai turned and walked away.

  “What was that about?” Stark asked nervously.

  “Nothing,” Earl muttered. “It’s not important. When we leave the ridge, move quick, but stick together. Stay alert. We’ll wait until the sun comes over the hill, so we’ll have some light.”

  “Sun’ll be up in fifteen minutes,” Aino said.

  Stark pulled out his cell phone. “Still no signal.” The Fed had been checking it every few minutes since they’d set out.

  “When there is, you damn well better just call for reinforcements and not an airstrike,” Earl warned.

  “What? They’d actually blow up the town?” Heather asked.