A Shifter's Curse, Raven Steele [the top 100 crime novels of all time .TXT] 📗

could and sprinted through the trees using my sense of smell to guide me. I considered shifting into a wolf, but then I would be naked should I need to shift back into a human. That's always awkward in any situation. Best I stay human for as long as possible.

The forest was shrouded in heavy darkness. The canopy above me, despite it being fall, was still so thick, the moon’s light was unable to break the barrier. I didn’t mind. I liked having to rely on my wolf senses to navigate. It made me feel powerful and part of something greater—the night.

Fallen leaves crunched beneath my foot falls. The smell of shifter wolves grew, which meant I was close. Before I advanced further, I figured I’d have to do something about my scent. Couldn't have security catching on to me this early in the game. Maybe I could find another pile of shit to mask my odor, but once a year was more than enough. Besides, there were other ways to sneak up on enemies.

I sniffed the air and expanded my hearing. All kinds of animals lived in these woods, more than around Fire Ridge. I could smell and hear them all. I just had to find the right one.

A flash of white through the darkness caught my attention. I cut to my left. The animal I tracked wouldn't be my first choice, but it was a step above smearing myself with horse manure. If I had more time, I might seek out a fox’s den, or even a raccoon’s. Rolling around in the dirt might work too, but for a quick fix, a skunk’s spray would have to do.

I leapt over a bush and into a tree, my claws latching onto its rough surface, to give me a bird’s eye view of the forest floor. I spotted the creature off to my right. I leapt from my perch and made what I thought was an accurate boogeyman cry to startle the skunk. He lifted his tail, and I turned my head just as the smelly blast hit me.

“Nailed it,” I murmured, staying in the cloud of stink for only a second. Any longer and it might be too obvious. Plus, it made me sick to my stomach, and I couldn’t have the aroma of vomit out-smelling my skunk perfume. I hurried away holding back several coughs, tears stinging my eyes. Maybe that wasn't such a good idea.

A steady light shined through a wall of trees. I was close. I crouched low in the underbrush and moved as stealthily as a mountain lion. The large barn was just up ahead, the Greybacks’ home on the left. Behind it, I spotted the small shacks, moonlight reflecting off their tin roofs. I wondered if some of their pack lived inside them. A lot of shifters didn't care where they laid their head, as long as there was shelter.

I listened to the various sounds scattered over the property. Most of them were people talking and laughing, along with the occasional sloshing of heavy drinking. Guess all packs had something in common.

But there was one noise that made me cock my head to the right, toward the large barn. A girl was crying while someone else spoke in angry spouts.

Making sure I was alone, I darted across the lawn to an old truck and peeked around. A soft light glowed from one of the barn windows, but it was too high for me to peek through. Two shifters guarded the large barn door. I left my hiding spot and sprinted around to the back to conceal myself behind a thick oak tree.

So far so good. The smell of skunk was working. They probably had at least a dozen guards patrolling, but as long as I was quiet, I'd go unnoticed.

Poking my head out, I risked a glance at the barn. There was an opening on the second floor, with stacks of hay just as high. Other than making a grand entrance, this was the only way in. I ran and leapt high onto one of the stacks. I landed soundlessly and scrambled my way up into the entrance. I was on a dusty loft overlooking the barn, cobwebs at every turn. I cringed and silently wiped at my arms just in case. I hated spiders.

Moving further upon old wooden planks into the darkness, I quickly melted into the shadows and sniffed the air. There was an odor that didn't smell right. It was hard to separate it from the normal barn smells of animal waste and dusty hay, but whatever it was, it set my already agitated nerves on edge.

"You shouldn't have come here," a deep voice said behind me.

My heart fell into my stomach, and I froze. So much for not getting caught.

I glanced behind me, but to my relief there was no one there. The male voice was coming from below me, the deep sound carrying through the rafters.

A girl sobbed uncontrollably. "We were friends. That used to mean something.”

"It used to," the same male voice said.

“How could you come back here, with them?” The poor girl’s voice held an edge of uncontrollable rage.

“I didn’t have a choice.”

My head jerked up. Ryder. He had breathed the words as if there was barely any air left in his lungs. I was right. They had taken him.

I crept near the edge of the balcony and peered down but was met with darkness. I moved to a narrow walkway, risking its proximity to the voices for a better view.

"The moment you left us, you became a stranger to me," the man's voice continued. It was laced in cruelty and spite. "I regret the day you were ever born."

I slowly peeked over the edge and sucked in a hitched breath. The faint light of a small lantern revealed Ryder hanging from the rafters, both his hands tied high above his head. His toes just barely grazed the floor, enough to tease him. His shirt had been stripped and his back whipped. The word “traitor” had been carved into his chest. Beneath him, a pool of blood slowly grew.

I gripped a wooden board until I thought it would snap. Damn Silas. And damn Dominic for not listening to me.

The girl who had lost her eyes sat near Ryder's legs. She had white bandages covering both of them but she kept touching at them as if her eyes might magically reappear.

"I'm sorry,” Ryder said, his voice raspy and weak. He winced through each word, his face pinched in pain. By the large purple bruise on each side of his chest, I wouldn't be surprised if he had broken ribs also.

The girl lifted her head toward him, frowning. "You're sorry?" Her voice rose. “Sorry?”

Through an agony-filled exhale, Ryder said, "There was nothing I could do."

He squinted his eyes, grunting in pain, as the girl pulled on his legs, hauling herself slowly to her feet. Her hands felt for his stomach. "You could have said no."

Her fingers balled into her palm, and she pulled back her fist before punching into his stomach. Air exploded from his lungs. "You are a coward!” she yelled. "A coward!"

Jackson stepped into the light for the first time, his hands balled tight like he wanted to take his turn at the Ryder-punching bag. "Look her in the eyes when she speaks to you."

Ryder attempted to lift his head, but it flopped back to his chest. Jackson stormed over to him and grabbed a fistful of Ryder's hair and jerked his head up. "I said look. This is because of you. You did this!”

He threw Ryder’s head forward, disgust overwhelming his face. “You belong over there, you filthy Silver Claw. I should've given you to them when you were a pup. Useless from day one."

The girl punched him again. "When will I get to kill him?"

Her brutality shocked me. This is what Ryder meant when he said his pack wasn’t any better.

“Not yet. He needs to suffer for a few more days."

“No!” In a sudden fit of rage, the girl punched and clawed at his face over and over. Because she couldn't see, she missed half of the blows, but the ones that connected were enough.

It was some time before she grew tired. It took everything I had to hold myself back from jumping down and stopping her. By the time she was finished, Ryder was unconscious.

Jackson placed his large hand on her shoulder. "Let's go for the night. The smell in here is terrible. You can come back in the morning when he's awake."

She sniffed, wiping her nose with the back of her hand, and let Jackson guide her out of the barn, taking the lantern with them. As soon as they closed the door, I quietly made my way to the back of the barn where I had spotted a ladder. It creaked when I placed my weight on it so I decided to skip it altogether and jumped to the ground.

The odd smell was stronger here. It reminded me of the time my whole teenage group home had come down with the flu. Everyone but me, of course. The humans had gotten it bad, making the small house smell like the plague with their waste and vomit. But why would it smell like that here?

I crept through the darkness, passing several stalls on my way to the other side. The smell grew stronger, until I had to press my palm over my nose and mouth. Deciding to investigate, I smelled the air until I was next to the stall door where the smell was the strongest. Listening closely, there was breathing, ragged and soft. I tried the handle, but the door was locked.

I slid the bolt across the top of the door and opened it just enough to peek inside. What the holy hell? I opened the door wider.

Inside, laying in their own waste were three naked humans, two females and one male. Open sores littered their bodies, oozing puss and blood. The smell was horrific. I swallowed the growing bile in my throat.