Blood Ties: The Second (A Bane Pack Novel)

Smashwords Edition

Copyright © 2013, Rustin Petrae. All rights reserved.

Price $2.99 (US Currency) for a digital copy. No similarity between any names, characters, persons, and/or institutions in this publication is intended and any such is purely coincidental. The Bane Pack Novels (including all prominent characters) featured in this novel (and the distinctive likeness thereof) are copyrighted by Rustin Petrae.

Also Available from Rustin Petrae

Bane Pack Novels

Blood Ties: The First

Histories of Purga

Dragon

Roc

Basilisk

Collection

Forfeit

Novella

Cat’s Paw

Hybrid Earth: Shorts

Hybrid Earth - Volume 1

Hybrid Earth - Volume 2

Hybrid Earth - Volume 3

Hybrid Earth: Phoenix - Volume 1

Hybrid Earth: Assassins - Volume 1

For Jekyll

I want to thank all my past, present, and future readers and all fans of my work that show their support. One of the things I love most about writing is getting to hear what my readers think. I also want to thank my family for their continued support and advice. It is invaluable.

-Rustin Petrae

PART ONE...Hunter

PART TWO…Goddess

PART THREE...Vampire

PART FOUR...Death

Blood Ties: III Sneak Peak

"Are you sure this is where it went?" Kendra hissed, trying to keep her voice down. She could feel sweat trickling down her spine from the humid, summer air.

Shh, Felix whispered, shooting a warning look at her.

Kendra rolled her eyes and stared at a dark alley in between a CVS and a deli called The Sub Shoppe. Pretty soon they could hear a man screaming followed by the sounds of a trash can being overturned.

That’s our cue, Jenna said. She had a huge, eager grin on her face.

You know your friend is slightly crazy, right? Conor said, looking at Jenna.

She shot him a dark look.

I don’t think you really have any business throwing out the crazy coin, Mr. Gave-In-To-My-Blood-Hunger-And-Killed-People.

He growled angrily at her but Kendra restrained him.

Quit fighting, both of you, she whispered. Everyone needs to be focused.

But…, he tried to say.

You deserved it, now let’s go, she commanded.

The four of them moved toward the alley where the screams were coming from. They’d been tracking a wendigo through the city. It was a nearly hairless beast with large, pointed ears, wispy white hair, and sickly yellow eyes. Its grotesquely huge maw was filled with yellowed fangs ranging from an inch to two inches long. From the records Jenna obtained, both its claws and its fangs secreted a clear, odorless neurotoxin that paralyzed its victims so they couldn’t run away as it devoured them.

Kendra shuddered at the thought of a monster hovering over her while she was completely powerless, ready to eat the flesh off her while she was still alive. She breathed deeply for a second, calming herself. Then she looked to the others.

Let’s get that thing, she told them.

Then she shifted into her monstrous wolf form. Her auburn fur shone under the light of a streetlamp and her massive paws stretched out on the pavement, her claws making loud scratching sounds. Felix grabbed her clothes and stuffed them into a backpack he was wearing.

Conor morphed into his wolf/human hybrid form.

Jenna whirled a pair of silver short swords.

After Felix stowed Kendra’s clothes in the bag he wore, his eyes flashed with blue light and the wind picked up around him.

With a rough howl, Kendra moved into the alley. The rest of her team followed without hesitation.

The wendigo was a nasty piece of work. It was as horrible to look at as she feared. When it saw them coming, it backed up a step, its mouth opening to show its vicious fangs. At its feet was its potential victim, a limp form on the rainsoaked alley floor.

Its eyes flashed yellow.

Get awayss, it hissed as it let its knees bend and its overlong arms drag on the ground. Kendra could see its venom dripping off its fangs and claws and made a mental note not to let them near her. Thiss iss mine meal.

Kendra growled.

Conor barked out a terrifying roar.

Jenna went into a casual fighting stance.

Felix’s eyes flashed bright blue again, this time a crackle of electricity sparking from them.

The wendigo stood there, hovering protectively over its meal. They all stood that way for a split second. The air was charged with tension so thick, it practically crackled along everyone’s skin.

Then Kendra charged.

The wendigo was ready for that. It opened its ugly mouth and let out an ear-splitting noise. It pierced Kendra’s skull like razor blades and she stumbled. Her giant paw slipped in a puddle and she went tumbling into the side of a dumpster. Conor didn’t fare any better. As soon as the sound left its mouth, he was on his knees with his hands clamped to the side of his head. His wolf form melted off his features and he was human again. Jenna would’ve been next, but Felix threw a cocoon of magic around themselves, protecting them from the sound wave. When the thing’s mouth snapped shut a few seconds later, he dropped it, reshaped his magic and sent two spinning disks of compressed air at it.

The wendigo was fast, but not fast enough. It dodged one of the disks, but the other one severed its right arm just below the shoulder. It fell to the ground with a meaty sounding thud. Yellow ichor flowed out of the stump and it let out a pain-filled screech. Kendra got back to her feet, but her head still felt slightly dizzy.

Conor’s ears trickled with blood, but he managed to get back to his feet too and shift again.

The wendigo looked from one threat to the next, its stump still dripping ichor, and seemed to know it couldn’t win. It turned and tried to flee.

Kendra ran full out. There was no way in hell she was letting that thing loose in her city. She was almost to it when something flew out from behind a darkened doorway and tackled the monster to the ground. There were several shouts and grunts.

She slowed and stopped, watching events unfold. The thing that just tackled the wendigo was...just a man. Although, judging by the way he fought, a very dangerous and capable one.

The wendigo tried to swipe its remaining clawed hand at the guy, but he nimbly dodged out of the way. Then he clamped a hand on its wrist, twisted with his body, and used the monster’s own momentum against it. In the blink of an eye, the wendigo was sailing through the air until it crashed headfirst into a brick wall. There was a sickening crunch and then it fell to the ground in a lifeless heap. Jenna walked past the guy and over to the wendigo.

Kendra immediately picked up the sounds of crackling pops coming from the creature. She knew what that sound meant. It was healing its broken neck and skull.

She let out a huff of breath.

Why do these things always regenerate? she asked herself.

Before it could fully heal, Jenna took one of her swords out and severed its head. She backed away from it and turned to look at the man. He was staring, somewhat in shock, at the two werewolves in the alley with him.

W-what’s going on? he asked, his voice shaky. His eyes went back to the wendigo. What was that thing? It tried to fucking eat my friend. And what are they? He pointed to Kendra and Conor, although Conor had already shifted back into his human form.

The man looked at him questioningly, blinking his eyes.

I mean that? He looked to Kendra.

Don’t worry, Mr…? Jenna asked, waiting for him to supply his name.

Dr-Drake Harper, he stammered. What is that? Am I going crazy?

No, Jenna responded, her voice kind and sweet.

She went up to the man and gently laid a hand on the shoulder of his dirty, ragged shirt. From the way he was dressed, it was pretty clear he was homeless. His shirt was stained and had a number of rips and holes in it. His jeans were nearly shredded, and the sole was coming off one of his sneakers. His blonde hair was filthy and unkempt, and he sported a rough-looking beard.

You’re not crazy. We can explain all of this to you, if you want, but first we need to take care of your friend. We’re gonna get him to a hospital, okay? Stay here with those two. She gestured toward Kendra and Conor. My people will be coming to clean up the remains of that creature.

The man glanced nervously at Kendra.

Don’t worry, she’s a big puppy. She won’t hurt you. Jenna smirked at Kendra.

Felix went over to the injured man the wendigo had originally targeted. He was also homeless and his dark, wrinkled skin was nearly ash grey. His brown eyes were open and staring and he had tears running down the corners of them.

He’s got a deep laceration to his side and some venom around the wound. We need to move him quickly, Felix said as he worked to make sure the man didn’t die.

You ready? Jenna asked.

Felix stood back up and tossed the backpack to Kendra. She snatched it out of the air and it hung from her muzzle. She walked, almost daintily, behind a dumpster as Felix, Jenna, and the homeless man vanished in a cyclone of air. Drake’s mouth opened in a wide in surprise.

Kendra shifted back to human, opened the backpack, and slipped her clothes back on. Then she walked out from behind the dumpster, Conor coming up beside her.

I’m Kendra Henner. This is Conor Dewar, she said, trying to sound friendly. But Drake wasn’t having any of it.

What happened to the big dog? he asked. Was that you?

He was rapidly getting hysterical.

It must be the PTSD, he mumbled to himself.

Kendra raised an eyebrow at Conor.

We’ll explain everything, she told him. Just try to be calm.

Calm? he cried. I’m losing my fucking mind and you want me to be calm?

He started advancing toward Kendra, his eyes hard and angry. Conor stepped protectively in front of her.

I want answers, Drake told them, becoming openly hostile now. I’ll get them too, even if I have to wring both your necks to do it.

He flexed his fists, popping out the muscles in his forearms. Before he could attack, however, Felix and Jenna came whirling back into the alley. Felix immediately saw the look on Drake’s face and knew he had to do something to stop him.

Sominus, he said, pointing at Drake.

A blue spark zipped from the end of his finger and smacked into Drake’s forehead. He immediately collapsed to the ground and started snoring loudly.

What did you do? Jenna asked, outraged. She ran to Drake, checking his vitals.

He’s under a sleeping spell, Felix told her. It’ll wear off in an hour. He’ll be fine. The only reason I did it was because he looked like he was about to attack Kendra and Conor.

He was, Conor grumbled.

Well, how would you react if you were human and been attacked by a monster only to be left with two other monsters? she asked, getting defensive.

We’re not monsters, Conor replied.

Sorry…werewolves, she shot back, a sarcastic tinge to her tone.

What are you going to do with him? Kendra asked.

I don’t know yet, she responded. I can’t just leave him here. Maybe I’ll take him to my dad’s, and we can talk to him there.

Just as long as you keep him away from us, Kendra told her.

Jenna glared at her but didn’t respond. She looked to Felix instead.

Help me with him, she ordered.

Felix sighed heavily and went over to her. He bent down, placing a hand on both Jenna and Drake.

See you guys later, Felix said.

They vanished again.

Kendra turned to Conor. He smiled at her and hugged her close to him.

Some date night huh? he asked, kissing her passionately. She returned it with pleasure.

I always knew you were a hopeless romantic. Do you always take your dates to such intimate, beautiful locales? she joked, trying to ease her own exasperation.

This was the fourth date night Jenna ruined, and she was beginning to think her best friend was doing it on purpose. Jenna Bishop was a Defaeco Knight, which was a very secret group of Knights Templar that fought all the monsters humanity said didn’t exist. Conor also happened to be a werewolf and one with a very bad past. Awhile back, he’d given into his blood hunger, the wolf part of his nature that was enthralled with hunting and killing anything it came across. Because of that, he’d gotten put on the Defaeco Knight’s list of creatures that needed killed. However, he managed to avoid confrontation with the shady group of monster hunters. Since then, he’d cleaned himself up and reclaimed his humanity. Now he was Kendra’s boyfriend and Jenna hated it.

Only the best for my girl, Conor said, looking around at the dirty, trash-ridden alleyway.

He kissed her again, but it was strained. They knew Jenna was doing her best to sabotage them. All the jokes in the world couldn’t ease that kind of strain on their relationship.

They waited together for twenty minutes before a plain, white panel van pulled up at the mouth of the alley. The doors slid open and two pages, or knights-in-training, hopped out. They were both young, barely in their twenties. One was a male that still showed signs of acne on his face and the other was a cute girl dressed in a fitted shirt with a beach scene on it and stained jeans. She was also stomping around in military-issue combat boots. She strolled up to them, a smile on her face.

Got another one for us I see, she said, cheerful.

The guy didn’t bother talking to them. In fact, he was trying to do whatever he could to be as far away from them as he humanly possible. Kendra immediately ran up to the girl and gave her a hug.

Gwen! she practically yelled, nearly jumping up and down.

She’d met Gwen only a couple of months ago, just after she’d struck up her new treaty with Elijah, but it felt like she’d known her for years. With her sharp, sarcastic tongue and witty jokes, she’d been really easy to talk to and get to know. It was one of the few friendships in her life that she didn’t feel like she had to work to obtain. Instead, it had been something genuine and easy.

You didn’t tell me you were back.

I got in like three hours ago. She stretched. Man, I hate planes. My ass still feels half-numb.

How’d you like London?

It was pretty sweet, she responded. Loved the pubs. And the girls.

She gave Kendra a conspiratorial wink and they both started laughing.

Mind helping me with this? the male asked in a dry, slightly irritated voice. Or do you want me to report back to Mr. Bishop that you aren’t capable of doing your job?

Kendra shot the man a dark look and he immediately paled.

Dick, Gwen whispered beneath her breath. She hugged Kendra again and stepped back. I gotta help him. Call me later okay?

Sure, Kendra replied.

They watched the two pages carry off the body, the wendigo’s severed arm tucked underneath the guy’s armpit. After the creature’s body was in the van, they came back and hosed off the yellow ichor.

Gwen said a final goodbye, and then the van drove off.

Come on, Conor said. Maybe we can still salvage what’s left of our date.

They left together, heading for the closest restaurant they could find.

|| || || || ||

Drake woke up in a dark room, on a mattress so soft, he practically sank into it. Maybe woke up was the wrong word. It was more like he twitched himself awake, his body jerking uncomfortably. Visions of nightmare creatures with long talon-like claws and ripping fangs, of huge monster dogs, and half-man/half-wolf-like beings rampaged through his mind. When he woke, he could still see them hovering like twisted ghosts in front of his face.

He took deep, calming breaths. He focused on breathing in and out until those wraith-like images disappeared. Then he looked around the room. It was enormous, almost bigger than his apartment had been (when he had one that is). The walls were done in rich wood paneling and expensive, designer furniture was everywhere. He quickly got out of bed, his heart still hammering in his chest.

Where the hell am I? What is going on?

The door opened and a very pretty blonde entered. She flicked on the overhead lights, and Drake squinted a little until his eyes could adjust.

I’m glad you’re awake, the girl said.

She looked really familiar, but he couldn’t immediately place where he’d seen her before. Then, a second later, his mind supplied the answer. Her name was Jenna Bishop. She was a celebrity model and one of the city’s social elite. Her father, if he remembered, ran a successful marketing/media company.

What am I doing here? he asked, and not pleasantly.

You should get cleaned up. We have a lot to talk about, she told him. She glanced at a door off to his left. There’s a shower in there and some clean clothes. I wasn’t sure what would fit you, so if something doesn’t, let me know and I’ll see what else I can find. Oh, and there’s also clippers, shaving cream, a razor, and some deodorant.

She left without another word, leaving Drake very confused.

He looked at himself, looked at the bathroom door, and finally gave in. It would be good to get clean. Being homeless was depressing on so many levels, but the biggest thing he hated was not being able to get clean. The grunge of living on the streets seemed to seep into his pores, like it stained him. No matter how many gas station sinks he used to clean it off, it never seemed to be enough. It was always there.

He went over to the door and opened it. The inside looked more like a five-star spa than someone’s bathroom. He walked over to the stand-up shower, took his dirty, ragged clothes off, and stepped inside. He put the water on as hot as it would go and just let it run over his head and shoulders for a while. It felt like heaven.

He stayed in there for over an hour, cleaning and scrubbing at himself. When he got out, he toweled himself off and wrapped it around his waist. He swiped a hand over the fogged-up mirror and looked at himself. His blonde hair was too long, and his beard was thick and scratchy. He wasn’t used to that. He was used to his military haircut and seeing himself like that was unsettling. He didn’t even look like himself.

He grabbed the clippers and took them to his beard first. He watched the hair fall lazily to the sink. Then he grabbed the shaving cream and razor and shaved the rest off. He looked at himself and after a little hesitation, grabbed the clippers again and took them to his hair. It wasn’t exactly his high and tight, but it was definitely better than his long blonde hair and he looked more like himself than he had in years.

His eyes traveled to the warped, twisted skin of his shoulder and side. The scars came from a severe burn he’d gotten in Afghanistan while on tour there. He rubbed his fingers over it and all he could remember was the pain. The pain of knowing that he was burning alive. The pain of seeing all his friends dying around him.

He slammed a fist on the counter and turned away from the mirror. He found the fresh clothes in a neat pile on a chair. He put them on. They were somewhat tight. He was bulkier across the chest and shoulders than their original owner, but it didn’t bother him. They actually looked pretty good. The shirt was a soft, maroon button-down that he left open at the throat and the pants were a pair of khaki slacks. He laced up the expensive leather shoes and walked out of the bathroom.

He planned to just glide out unseen and leave the over-luxurious place, but as soon as he opened the door, the girl (Jenna, he reminded himself) was there to meet him. As soon as she saw him, her eyes widened a little and she looked at him appraisingly.

You look…, she paused, searching for the right word, really good.

Uh…thanks, he replied, embarrassed.

Jenna just stood there for a moment longer, looking at him. She seemed to realize she was staring and snapped herself out of it.

Um…come with me, she said, grabbing his hand. There are some things we should probably talk about.

The pale, talon-clawed creature shoved itself to the front of his mind, making the bomb blast he’d been in seem like child’s play by comparison. He shuddered slightly, wishing that it had been some weird, elaborate hallucination instead of reality. Judging by how serious Jenna was being, though, he doubted his mind had made up the whole thing. Strangely, that made him feel a little better. At least he knew he wasn’t going crazy.

She led him through the enormous house and into what looked like a den. Sitting on a leather sofa was Jenna’s father, Elijah. He knew the man only by reputation and what he read in the newspapers. Apparently, cutthroat businessmen were even afraid of the guy. As soon as Drake entered the room, however, Elijah got up and walked over to him. He held out his hand.

Drake Harper, I’m Elijah Bishop. It’s a pleasure to be in the presence of a real American hero, he said.

A surge of anger hit Drake at the comment. He wasn’t a hero. The only thing that made him one was being the only survivor in a blast that had killed all his fellow soldiers and friends.

Been reading up on me, Mr. Bishop? Drake said, his voice dry.

I like to be aware of who my daughter brings home, he replied casually. It was meant to be a joke, but Drake didn’t laugh.

Why am I here? he said instead.

To the point, I see. I like that in people. Not many of your type left these days. He gestured to a chair next to him and Drake sat down.

Would you like anything to eat? Or something to drink? Elijah asked.

Drake ground his teeth angrily, trying to quell his rising impatience.

If you have something you want to talk about, talk. I wouldn’t waste your time and I would appreciate it if you didn’t waste mine.

Jenna looked at her father uneasily. He smiled reassuringly at her though.

Of course, Elijah said. You’ll have to excuse me. The nature of our conversation is somewhat delicate. I thought easing you into it would be more practical. I apologize.

What did I see tonight? Drake asked. I thought I was losing my mind, but the way you people have been acting is telling me that it was all real. Right?

I’m afraid so, Elijah replied, his voice weirdly calm. Humans have fought hard to make themselves believe that the monsters in the legends and myths of old are all fake, made up fairytales. It makes them feel better. That lie, however, is a somewhat poor defense against those that would prey on them. My organization, for lack of a better word, was formed to take care of these monsters. We’ve been around for centuries.

Monsters are real? Drake asked. He would’ve loved to disbelieve the man or to write him off as some eccentric millionaire, but the things he saw (and couldn’t stop remembering) confirmed Elijah was telling the truth. And your organization fights them?

I belong to the Order of the Defaeco Knights, a very ancient sect of the Knights Templar. My daughter is one as well. We protect people, Mr. Harper. It is an old calling, but everyone that joins is dedicated to our mission, Elijah explained. He looked very seriously at Drake. You asked me if I’ve been reading up on you and you’re right. I have been. You were a Gunnery Sergeant in the United States Marine Corps. You’ve received numerous commendations and medals, including a Purple Heart. You’ve done two tours of duty in Afghanistan, but during your last one, your platoon was caught by an IED. You were the only survivor. Since returning to the States, you’ve held several different jobs but none of them for more than a week. You have no current address and, judging by your appearance when my daughter brought you here, no means to support yourself.

What exactly are you saying? Drake asked. He was angry that this man knew so much about him, but there didn’t seem to be a whole lot he could do about it.

You are a hero, Mr. Harper, whether you want to admit it or not. When the wendigo attacked your friend tonight, you fought it. Not many people would do that. You have training. You have courage. You have everything we look for in a new recruit, Elijah said. I want you to join the Order.

Drake looked from Elijah and then to Jenna.

No, he promptly said.

He got up and started walking out the door.

I’ll pay you back for the clothes, he told them as he walked out of