I can’t believe I’ve not posted here since May 19th. Eep. Sorry, guys. It totally slipped my mind lately. What’s been getting in my way? Final edits on Into the Realm: The Chronicles of Carter Blake, Book I, and writing on other projects, and lately, worry about my best friend who has recently gone to the hospital.
I’ll do my best to resume posting sections of Carter’s tale on Fridays. In the meantime, here’s an excerpt from a new story I started not too long ago:
Joey glared at his brother. âWhat are you doing here, David?â
âViola is dead.â David bowed his head, eyes wet. âWeâre down to nine Queens.â
âI know.â Joey picked up a Sig Sauer, actuated the clip, and racked the slide. A cartridge, with a strange blue bullet attached popped out. He peered at him from under long, sooty lashes. âThis means war.â
âNo!â
Joey let out a low, raspy growl, stalked over to David and stood nose to chin with him. âNo?â He tilted his head back. âYou donât get a say, brother. You left the pack, remember? Wanted to live among the humans.â His upper lip curled away from her teeth. âYou wanted to be one of them.â
âJoey.â He drew the last syllable out, his voice dropping.
âWeâre going to kill the dirt-nappers, and then the shifters, and finally the Giavanaâs. So, run away, pup. Itâs what youâre goââ
A massive hand around his throat cut off his words. Joey kicked frantically, but to no avail; he was three feet in the air.
âListen, bitch. You may be Pack Leader, but never forget who is Alpha.â David snarled the last.
Joeyâs eyes turned a bright green and his lips curled away from his teeth which grew longer, and sharper. David threw him down the hall. âGo ahead, dumbass. Waste your transformation.â
Joey glared at the bigger man. His arms were tense, and his chest out, and heaving. The Alpha shook his head with a faint smirk. The pack leader howled, and his mouth lengthened, merging with his nose, and becoming a muzzle. Triangular ears rose atop his head. Black hairs sprouted over his face, lengthening until it became fur. His teeth grew longer and sharper-looking. His fingers elongated and sprouted coarse black hairs. Each digit was tipped with a thick, black talon. His body began to elongate, his muscles stretching and growing bigger. His shoes burst apart, revealing sis feet as they extended, and narrowed, the toes were capped with long black claws.
His knees snapped back like a dogâs with sickening wet crunches. His barrel chest grew wider, the bones creaking, and snapping under the pressure. Wiry hair spread over it in a rippling, spiral pattern. His arms spread wide, and his head went back, loosening a deafening howl.
âYouâve been a naughty boy, Joey. Messing with magicks youâre not supposed to.â David rolled his shoulders, and tipped his head from side to side. Each movement caused popping, and crackling sounds. âletâs dance, Pup.â
The werewolf bellowed in rage, slaver dripping from his fangs. He leaped at his enemy, seeking to rend him limb from limb. David took a step to his right, guiding the deadly claws away with the grace of a dancer, and then slammed the werewolfâs skull through the window. The lupine creature extricated his head from the broken glass with a howl, and lunged forward with another attack, leading with his left clawed hand. David flowed to the right, and aimed the wolfâs head at the brick wall. Fragments flew through the air as dust rose in an explosion.
Joey pulled his head away, moving slower than before. He shook his head, and whimpered at the buzzing deep inside his skull.
âSurrender, Joseph, and turn back. I donât want to hurt you further.â
Instead, he snarled again, and thrust his gaping maw forward. David punched the other in the snout with his right fist, and captured Joeyâs lower jaw in his left. The pack leader made a strangled yip of surprise, and then was yanked down. His jaw collided with Davidâs rising knee. He dropped to his knees, dazed.
âPull yourself together.â
David turned to leave. White hot heat ripped through his body as Joeyâs claws tore great furrows down his back. He screamed in pain, and whirled. Fists, moving like lightning pounded into the werewolfâs skull with the force of jack hammers. In the space of a moment, Joeyâs nose was broken, his jaw dislocated, and his cranium misshapen.
The Alpha grabbed the Pack Leaderâs ears, and then used his head as a pinball, bouncing it from one wall to the other, up one end of the hall, and down the other. He then threw the werewolf down the stairs to the marble floor twenty feet below. David leaped down after him, landing in a perfect three-point-stance. He gripped the beaten wolf by the scruff of the neck and lifted him.
âClean yourself up. Youâre a mess.â He left his opponentâs head hit the floor, and stalked down the hall between the twin flights of stairs to Violaâs quarters.
Joey lay, naked and shivering on the floor for several minutes after the Alpha left. Abrupt reversions always left him with a quivering stomach. He slowly raised his throbbing head and spat out a tooth. It lay in a mix of saliva and blood, mutely accusing. What was I thinking? Iâm not yet ready to take Davidâs place as Alpha. This just confirmed what she said.
He sighed, and slumped over to his back, blindly staring up at the massive fairy crystal chandelier dangling from the vaulted ceiling. He blinked, and switched his gaze to the large oil painting of Alastor Hara, the pack founder. As always, that unsmiling countenance seemed to be saying, âYouâre not worthy to lead my pack, Mongrel. Only purebloods should ever lead.â
âFuck you, old man.â He gingerly sat up, not yet fully healed despite his swift regeneration. I should get dressed. Iâm sure the old man doesnât want to be staring at my pale ass. He got to his feet, and swayed, nearly falling again. He shook his head, and collapsed to his knees. His gorge rose, and before he could swallow it back, it barreled out his mouth like a runaway freight train. Each heave served to aggravate his torn neck muscles. After the last one, he wiped his mouth, paying no heed to the frothy pink vomit on the floor. One of the servants would clean it.
He limped down the hall that opened just off the eastern most section of the front stairs, bracing himself against the wall, trailing blood behind him. He staggered into the library, and locked the door behind him. He paused, knees shaking, head down for several heartbeats. He then walked over to the fireplace, and flipped a hidden switch.
The heart slid to the side revealing a dank stair down. He slipped through, depressing another button on the other side of the threshold. The fireplace slid back, leaving him in pitch blackness. He confidently strode the stairs, his sight unaffected by the lack of illumination. The steps wound around, and around, sometimes twisting under each other, but going ever further down.
Near the bottom, it grew brighter. The increase was gradual enough that his eyes had a chance to acclimate to the change. The stairs terminated in a cathedral-like cavern. Torches scattered around on the walls provided the light.
In the center of the room stood an elaborately carved granite sarcophagus. At his approach, the lid swung open. A small, blonde girl stepped out and turned icy blue eyes on him. He stopped at the base of the platform and knelt with his head to the stone floor.
âRise, Joey.â The soft voice had an ethereal quality to it. He did as commanded, gazing worshipfully at her porcelain features. âYou lost.â
Though it wasnât a question, he felt compelled to answer. âYes, Mistress. Just as you said I would.â
âYour recklessness almost gave away your secret.â
âDavid still doesnât know I can transform without the queen. He thinks it was a wasted one.â
âHe knows you are dealing with magic you shouldnât be.â
Her voice wasnât loud, but he shook anyway. âIâm sorry, Mistress.â
âNo matter. He will not be a problem much longer.â She gestured, and an ornate golden chalice appeared in her right hand. She passed her left over it, and handed the now full cup to him. âDrink, and grow strong.â
âYes, Mistress.â He swallowed the fiery ruby liquid in one gulp.