Werewolves of Shade (Part Two) (Beautiful Immortals Series Book 2)

  Werewolves of Shade

  (Beautiful Immortals Series)

  Part Two

  BY

  Tim O’Rourke

  First Edition Published by Ravenwoodgreys

  Copyright 2015 by Tim O’Rourke

  This book is a work of fiction. The names, characters, places, and incidents are products of the writer’s imagination or have been used fictitiously and are not to be construed as real. Any resemblance to persons, living or dead, actual events, locales or organisations is entirely coincidental.

  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 use only, then please purchase your own copy. Thank you for respecting the hard work of this author.

  Story Editor

  Lynda O’Rourke

  Book cover designed by:

  Tom O’Rourke

  Copyedited by:

  Carolyn M. Pinard

  www.cjpinard.com

  For Patrick

  More books by Tim O’Rourke

  Kiera Hudson Series One

  Vampire Shift (Kiera Hudson Series 1) Book 1

  Vampire Wake (Kiera Hudson Series 1) Book 2

  Vampire Hunt (Kiera Hudson Series 1) Book 3

  Vampire Breed (Kiera Hudson Series 1) Book 4

  Wolf House (Kiera Hudson Series 1) Book 5

  Vampire Hollows (Kiera Hudson Series 1) Book 6

  Kiera Hudson Series Two

  Dead Flesh (Kiera Hudson Series 2) Book 1

  Dead Night (Kiera Hudson Series 2) Book 2

  Dead Angels (Kiera Hudson Series 2) Book 3

  Dead Statues (Kiera Hudson Series 2) Book 4

  Dead Seth (Kiera Hudson Series 2) Book 5

  Dead Wolf (Kiera Hudson Series 2) Book 6

  Dead Water (Kiera Hudson Series 2) Book 7

  Dead Push (Kiera Hudson Series 2) Book 8

  Dead Lost (Kiera Hudson Series 2) Book 9

  Dead End (Kiera Hudson Series 2) Book 10

  Kiera Hudson Series Three

  The Creeping Men (Kiera Hudson Series Three) Book 1

  The Lethal Infected (Kiera Hudson Series Three) Book 2

  The Adoring Artist (Kiera Hudson Series Three) Book 3

  The Secret Identity (Kiera Hudson Series Three) Book 4

  Werewolves of Shade

  Werewolves of Shade (Part One)

  Werewolves of Shade (Part Two)

  Werewolves of Shade (Part Three)

  Werewolves of Shade (Part Four)

  Werewolves of Shade (Part Five)

  Werewolves of Shade (Part Six)

  Moon Trilogy

  Moonlight (Moon Trilogy) Book 1

  Moonbeam (Moon Trilogy) Book 2

  Moonshine (Moon Trilogy) Book 3

  The Jack Seth Novellas

  Hollow Pit (Book One)

  Seeking Cara (Book Two) Coming Soon!

  Black Hill Farm (Books 1 & 2)

  Black Hill Farm (Book 1)

  Black Hill Farm: Andy’s Diary (Book 2)

  Sydney Hart Novels

  Witch (A Sydney Hart Novel) Book 1

  Yellow (A Sydney Hart Novel) Book 2

  The Doorways Saga

  Doorways (Doorways Saga Book 1)

  The League of Doorways (Doorways Saga Book 2)

  The Queen of Doorways (Doorways Saga Book 3)

  The Tessa Dark Trilogy

  Stilts (Book 1)

  Zip (Book 2)

  The Mechanic

  The Mechanic

  The Dark Side of Nightfall

  Book One

  Unscathed

  Written by Tim O’Rourke & C.J. Pinard

  You can contact Tim O’Rourke at

  www.kierahudson.com or by email at kierahudson91@aol.com

  Werewolves of Shade

  (Part Two)

  This story is set in a where and when not too dissimilar to our own…

  Chapter One

  “Who are you?” The voice was gruff – bordering on irritable.

  I glanced back over my shoulder, eyes wide with fear, and looked at the guy who stood in the mouth of the alleyway.

  “Get back!” I screamed, knocking into him, sending both of us flying backwards and into the street. “There’s a wolf!”

  “A wolf?” the guy grimaced, pushing me off him where I rolled away onto my back.

  Fearing that the giant wolf I had seen in the shade of the alley would be on me in moments, I sprung to my feet. Within an instance, the stranger I had knocked over was standing beside me.

  “I can’t see no wolf,” he said, taking a step forward, closer to the opening of the alleyway. His voice echoed back off the empty, narrow streets of Shade.

  “Be careful,” I said, gripping him by the arm. He glanced at me with a set of pale blue eyes.

  He shrugged my hand free of him. “Don’t touch,” he said, glancing me up and down. The man who stood and briefly studied me couldn’t have been any older than twenty-two years old. He was clean-shaven with black, shoulder-length hair. It was messy looking, just like the long coat, worn jeans, and scuffed boots he was wearing. The wind that gusted and whined along the street made his coat flap open, and I couldn’t help but notice that a faded leather holster was crisscrossed about his waist. The holster held a gleaming pistol to each of his thighs. He was taller than me by a clear foot. It was a shame that he looked at me with such an arrogant stare, as it masked what could have been a handsome face. Slowly he slid one of the guns free, holding it in his fist. The gun gleamed silver in the fading light. The barrel of it was long, the handle made of wood. It was bigger than the gun my uncle Sidney had given to me. I gripped the strap of my rucksack that hung over my shoulder. For the second time since leaving Maze, I was glad I had it with me. “I don’t see any wolf,” he said, still eyeballing me.

  Breaking his uncomfortable stare, I looked back into the alleyway. “There was a wolf… it leapt at me…” I said.

  “There is no wolf,” he said. But I wasn’t so sure he really believed that. If he did, why had he drawn his gun? “If there was a wolf then you brought it with you…” he started.

  “What?” I frowned at him. Was he being serious?

  “Calix, what’s…?” I heard a voice say then abruptly stop. The voice belonged to a woman who had appeared in the doorway of the pub. And just like the guy had, she looked me up and down. I felt like some kind of exhibit. “Who is she?” she asked the young guy.

  “Found her hiding in the alleyway,” he said.

  “I wasn’t hiding…” I started to protest.

  “She said she saw a wolf,” the guy cut over me.

  “Where?” the woman asked, her dark eyes narrowing as she continued to inspect me, sliding one long, slender hand beneath the folds of the long, dark coat she wore.

  “There,” I said, pointing into the alleyway that ran alongside the pub. “It was right there?”

  “And where is it now?” the woman asked. She was older than the young man, perhaps forty. Her hair was long and black, tied into a loose-fitting ponytail that hung over her right shoulder. And also like the guy, she wore jeans and boots.

  “I don’t know where it is now,” I said, suddenly feeling dumb and beginning to wonder if I had really seen the wolf at all. If I had, where had it gone? Had it just vanished – vanished like the people of Shade had? But they hadn’t vanished – or at least there were two of them remaining
. “Who are you?” I asked.

  “You don’t get to ask the questions around here,” the guy said, grabbing me by the arm and yanking me toward the open door of the pub.

  “Hey, get off me!” I snapped, leaning backwards, but his grip on me was too tight. His long fingers held me in a vice-like grip while the other still held the gun.

  “Bring her inside,” the woman said, stepping back into the pub. The sign above the door, which read The Weeping Wolf, swung back and forth in the nagging wind. As I was manhandled into the pub by the guy, I couldn’t help but notice that the woman had also drawn a gun from beneath her coat. It was as big as the man’s, but black, as if forged from iron. As she slowly closed the door, I couldn’t help but notice how she peered through the diminishing gap and nervously out into the street. When the door was shut tight, she placed the gun back into the holster that hugged her hips.

  The pub was lit by candles, which stood on tables and along the old wooden bar. The place smelt of stale beer and smoke. A fire blazed in a nearby grate. Now that we were inside, with the door shut and the woman with her back against it, the guy let go of my arm but kept his gun in his fist at his side. I rubbed my forearm where he had moments ago been gripping me. My flesh there felt bruised and raw.

  “Freaking jerk,” I muttered under my breath, scowling sideways at him.

  “Got something to say, have you?” the woman asked.

  I looked at her, matching her dark stare. “Who are you? I thought this place was…” I trailed off.

  “You thought what?” That stern look of hers now fading and melting into a half smile – or was it a sneer?

  What did I say? How much was I meant to know about Shade? I’d been told by my uncle the village was deserted and that the people had all been taken – vanished. So who were these two people? Were they all that remained of the villagers? Were there any others? Where were my parents? Would these people know? Something deep inside me told me not to say too much – not until I knew more about this man and woman. Would they be happy if they discovered I had come to snoop on them – find out the truth of what had happened in Shade? What if they had played some part in the disappearance of the villagers – of my parents?

  “You thought what?” the woman asked again, taking a step away from the door toward me.

  “I thought I might be safe here,” I said, my brain scrambling – trying to think of some kind of backstory for myself. Didn’t all investigative reporters who went undercover have some kind of concocted backstory so as not to blow their cover? That’s what my uncle had once told me.

  “Safe from what?” she asked, that smile playing on her full lips again as she glanced at the young guy, who stood just feet from me, gun still in his hand.

  Then remembering what my uncle had told me about the towns I’d had to pass on my journey to Shade, I said, “I come from Twisted Den. It’s not safe there anymore. The streets are full of criminals.” Then thinking of that man and his dog who had wanted to kill me in Maze, I quickly added, “I was attacked there. I had to get out.”

  “And you have no family?” the woman asked, cocking her head slightly to one side as she questioned me.

  “No,” I said. “Both my parents are dead.” And I feared that wasn’t a lie.

  “So why come to Shade?” the guy asked, his voice still unfriendly and gruff.

  “I didn’t know where I was heading,” I lied. “I just drove out of Twisted Den. I had no idea where I was heading. Then the road I was on just ran out… stopped at the wall that surrounds this place. With such a big wall around it, I thought I would have to be safe here. It doesn’t look like anyone can get in or out…”

  “You got in,” the woman reminded me, her eyes narrowing again. Did she believe what I had told her? My heart had started to beat faster and my hands had turned clammy. I felt as if I were under some kind of an interrogation.

  “I found a hole… a gap in the wall,” I explained. What else could I say but the truth? “I could show you where it is… so you could fix it, that’s if you don’t want anyone else finding…”

  “Later,” she said, raising her hand as if to silence me. She turned to look at the young guy. “Calix, search her.”

  Without hesitation, the guy she had called Calix snatched my rucksack from my shoulder.

  “Hey, give that back,” I said, clawing at it, desperate for them not to find the gun my uncle had given to me.

  “Back off,” Calix snarled, raising the gun so the end of the long, silver barrel was almost touching the tip of my nose.

  “That bag belongs to me,” I said, staring down the length of the barrel and into his pale blue eyes.

  “You can have it back when it’s been searched,” the woman said, now suddenly at my side. I felt her long, thin hand fall gently on my arm. Her touch was so cold that I felt my skin break out in gooseflesh beneath the sleeve of my jacket. I pulled my arm away.

  “You won’t find anything,” I said.

  “No?” Calix said. “Then what’s this?”

  I glanced sideways to see him take the gun from the bag.

  Chapter Two

  I watched the woman take my gun from Calix. She turned it over in her hands. My heart raced. Did they think I had come to cause trouble? Come to harm them in some way? I glanced at Calix. He stood watching me, the neck of my rucksack open on the bar. The nearest candle flickered, casting his face in shadow, then light again. But even in that moment of darkness, I could see his ice cold stare fixed on me. My skin prickled all over. Perhaps my uncle had been right after all and I should have stayed at home – stayed safely in the arms of Flint. How I wished he had come with me now. After what I’d seen him do to that man and his dog, he wouldn’t have just stood back and let this woman and Calix intimidate him – search his belongings…

  “Always carry a gun with you?” the woman asked, slicing into my thoughts.

  “Like I said, it was dangerous in Twisted Den. Most people carried a gun to protect themselves…”

  “Against what, exactly?” she pushed, opening the chamber of the gun and shaking the bullets into the palm of her hand. “Werewolves?”

  “Werewolves?” I breathed.

  “These bullets are silver, aren’t they?” She glanced up at me, her eyes so narrow now they looked little more than slits. She closed her long, slender fingers around the bullets.

  “I don’t know… I’m not sure…” I gabbled, wishing now that I had spent some time at least thinking up that backstory. But I’d had no idea that there were going to be people living in Shade.

  “Liar,” the woman said, throwing the bullets into the nearby fire. I watched them spin through the air like six large pieces of glitter. The flames hissed and spat as they swallowed them up. I expected there to be a sudden series of loud bangs as the bullets exploded in the fire, but there was nothing other than the sound of the flickering flames. Calix tipped up my bag, shaking the contents over the bar. Then finding nothing of immediate interest, he sprung at me. I flinched backwards as he took me by the arm again. I pushed and pulled against him, but he was so strong.

  “Search her pockets,” the woman said.

  Holstering his gun, Calix gripped me from behind, his arms snaking about me. His body felt like a slab of cold rock against mine. Holding me by the shoulder with one hand, he reached into my coat pockets with the other. Finding nothing, he slid his hand into the back pocket of my jeans. I felt his fingers brush against my arse, and I jerked forward.

  “Get your filthy hands off me!” I hollered.

  Ignoring me and holding me tighter still so his cheek was brushing next to mine, Calix drove his hand into the front pocket of my jeans. I squirmed as I felt his fingertips against the top of my thigh.

  “I’ve got a boyfriend – you wait until I tell him about this…” I started.

  “You’re scaring me now,” he whispered in my ear. Then pushing me away, he withdrew his hand.

  “Looks like we’ve found ourselves I right littl
e werewolf and vampire hunter,” Calix said, holding up the crucifix my uncle had given to me for protection.

  “Vampire… werewolf?” I gasped at the sight of the crucifix. “You don’t understand…”

  “So why carry a gun with silver bullets and a crucifix if you’re not a werewolf and vampire hunter?” the woman asked, taking the crucifix from Calix and inspecting it, just like she had the gun and the silver bullets. “I’ve heard of such people but never someone who hunts both creatures,” she added, shooting Calix a bemused glance.

  “That’s because I’m not a werewolf or vampire hunter,” I tried to assure her. I saw Calix half smile back at the woman. Were they laughing at me? Playing with me? Did they think me a fool, or just simply naïve and out of my depth? Was that so untrue? Why had I left Maze?

  To find my parents, I told myself. And nothing was going to stop me from doing that.

  “So if you’re not a vampire or werewolf hunter, what exactly are you?” the woman asked, her face just inches from mine now. And being so suddenly close to her, I could see that her skin was as smooth as marble. Perhaps I had been wrong about her age, maybe she was younger than the forty years I had first thought. But it was so hard to tell in the flickering glow of the nearby candlelight. Her voice, mannerisms, the way she told Calix what to do, gave the impression that she was in control – that she was older than him.

  “What do you mean – what am I?” I whispered. “I’m a young woman – I’m not a monster, if that’s what you think. I’m human.”

  “Human,” the woman smiled, giving a gentle nod of her head. “We’ll see.”

  “See what?” I asked, heart thumping. Was she going to stake me through the heart with the crucifix she was still holding – shoot me with a silver bullet perhaps? No, she had thrown them in the fire I was relieved to remember.