Hunting Grounds (City Shifters: the Pack Book 2)
Hunting Grounds
City Shifters: the Pack
Layla Nash
Copyright © 2020 by Layla Nash
All rights reserved.
No part of this book may be reproduced in any form or by any electronic or mechanical means, including information storage and retrieval systems, without written permission from the author, except for the use of brief quotations in a book review.
Cover design by Resplendent Media
Contents
Chapter 1
Chapter 2
Chapter 3
Chapter 4
Chapter 5
Chapter 6
Chapter 7
Chapter 8
Chapter 9
Chapter 10
Chapter 11
Chapter 12
Chapter 13
Chapter 14
Chapter 15
Chapter 16
Chapter 17
Chapter 18
Chapter 19
Chapter 20
Chapter 21
Chapter 22
Chapter 23
Chapter 24
Chapter 25
Chapter 26
Chapter 27
Chapter 28
Chapter 29
Chapter 30
Chapter 31
Chapter 32
Chapter 33
Chapter 34
Chapter 35
Chapter 36
Chapter 37
Chapter 38
Chapter 39
Chapter 40
Chapter 41
Epilogue
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Chapter 1
Ophelia
The car broke down a few miles from the city and where I’d meant to hunker down for as long as possible, and I abandoned it on the side of the road. I couldn’t afford to stop moving. I needed to find a safe place to shelter as soon as possible, so I could cast a protective circle and disguise myself so Rocko wouldn’t find me. I hauled the bag with my loom and knitting needles out of the passenger seat, since I couldn’t afford to replace them, and started the hunt for a place to hide.
I walked as fast as I could in my battered boots, shivering in the chill wind. At least the car’s heat had been broken so I was already almost numb to my bones. Even a slight breeze cut through my Salvation Army coat, though I pulled it closer to make myself feel better. The outskirts of town weren’t particularly welcoming, though I felt safer seeing people around and other signs of life. Rocko wouldn’t attack me right in the open. He’d wait until I was alone and more vulnerable, or at least he’d wait until he thought I was more vulnerable.
I hugged my jacket to make myself feel better. I’d been working on all the defensive magic I had at my disposal, so Rocko would have a nice surprise the next time he confronted me. I’d been hoping for some help in the city, since I’d felt a huge magical disturbance not too long ago and figured there were some witches around. They wouldn’t take kindly to a sorcerer like Rocko mucking around in their territory, which was the only reason I dared enter another coven’s city.
Whether they’d welcome me, a stranger and lone witch, was another question entirely. I could figure that out later, once I knew I was safe from Rocko, and negotiate some kind of secure passage with whatever covens were still around.
The shivers that racked me were at least partly due to the thought of being around a coven, though the cold caused most of it. I’d had my fill of dealing with covens and I’d been running from them almost as long as I’d been running from Rocko. Still, though. A witch coven was preferable to a sorcerer’s prison.
Something barked, lost somewhere in the dark buildings and abandoned lots of the outskirts of the city. It looked to have been a mostly industrial neighborhood before all the industry left, with only a few houses still standing and some “up and coming” efforts at rejuvenation. I hunched my shoulders to try and keep my neck warm and hustled faster.
I had the address of a women’s shelter someone in the last town recommended, though from the street numbers I was still a hell of a hike away and the night only got darker with each passing step. Too bad about the car. Part of me suspected maybe it was Rocko’s doing, although it was more than likely because it had been a shitty car. My taste in vehicles was just as bad as my taste in men, apparently.
Another bark and a few yips echoed around me from the left and right, and then from behind, and I tensed. That wasn’t just a junkyard dog wanting to be heard. It sounded… sentient. Deliberate. As if a bunch of dogs were herding me somewhere—or hunting.
The hair on my arms stood up and I moved a little faster. I definitely didn’t want to run, not when the darkness hid broken concrete and other tripping hazards, though I couldn’t have gotten far in my shoddy boots. New shoes were on the list of things to get as soon as I landed someplace long enough to hold a job and save some money. Right after finding an apartment, some transportation, food, utilities, and the dollars to get some cough meds to deal with the lingering cold I’d had for what felt like forever.
I clenched my jaw and kept going, fighting down a rising tide of panic. I could have used magic to send the dogs on their way, but I didn’t want to light a beacon for Rocko to follow. The second I touched my power he would know about it and come after me even faster.
Of course… I almost stumbled to a halt. What if Rocko sent the dogs after me? He was the kind of asshole who’d do such a thing, knowing I’d have to kill the dogs to save my own life, and he’d track me down with my magic.
What a dick.
I clenched my hands into fists, just as tense as my jaw, and started hoofing it. I’d deal with a broken ankle if it happened. I didn’t want to kill an innocent animal just because Rocko didn’t value life at all.
It wasn’t long, though, until I heard paws on the concrete all around me, the click of nails and the huffing of breath from the shadows. My heart jumped to my throat and I felt even more trapped and surrounded, even with an open street ahead of me. I didn’t dare look back.
I searched for calm and centered myself even as I kept up a fast walk. Magic waited just out of reach, there if I wanted it. It was always an option, even if it meant drawing Rocko’s attention. The dogs wouldn’t kill me unless I decided to just give up and die, which I wouldn’t. Keeping my breathing deep and even took an effort of will I hadn’t experienced in years. But I managed. It helped that the sounds faded away a bit before returning stronger and closer than before.
I hardened my heart. I’d kill the animals if I had to, but place their lives on Rocko’s karmic altar. It was his fault for forcing me to defend myself.
It wasn’t even really a surprise when what looked like a mangy coyote appeared in front of me. I’d forced myself to mentally prepare for it so much that it was something like a letdown. A giant timber wolf would have at least justified the terror that made my hands shake no matter how much I tried to talk myself into bravery.
But a coyote, long-legged and skinny and narrow-faced? It wasn’t that scary.
It blocked my path on the dark street; a streetlight a full block ahead provided a little light but not enough to see what else crept out of the shadows. I stumbled to a halt and put all my effort into sounding confident and unafraid. “I don’t want to hurt you, but I will. Leave me alone. Go back to where you came from.”
The animal’s head tilted as it studied me, then it barked something close to canine laughter and lowered its head to growl at me. My heart jumped to my throat and I relaxed my death-grip on the sleeves of my jacket. Okay then. Clearly it wasn’t the kind of coyote that took direc
tions well.
Something scuffled on the concrete behind me but I didn’t turn, never taking my eyes off the threat in front of me. Its teeth reflected what little light there was back at me, and its eyes gleamed. Maybe it was rabid. Maybe that was why it wanted to attack. Normally coyotes didn’t end up in cities, chasing down innocent passersby.
If I were really innocent of anything, which was debatable. Rocko certainly would have argued that fact, and he might have even been right.
Magic responded sluggishly as I planted my feet and exhaled all that worry and tension out to the universe. What would come, would come. I had a weapon to use to defend myself and I wouldn’t feel bad about using it. I summoned power until it buoyed me up and took away the rest of the fear that held me back. I felt strong again. Finally, confidence rose up to eliminate the rest of my doubts.
I was a witch, and a damn strong one. Nothing else mattered.
Except for the dozen other animals that sauntered out of the darkness.
Chapter 2
Henry
Henry ignored the text message from his sister and kept up his lonely vigil in the shadier part of the city, outside the new pack house. Ever since the alpha of SilverLine pack, Miles Evershaw, found his mate, the pack split time between her enormous old house and the former warehouse where most of the pack lived and worked. Henry preferred the witch’s house, though he couldn’t have said why. It felt more like a home than the industrial-chic warehouse ever had.
That didn’t mean he wanted to stick around when Evershaw and Deirdre were getting along too well, because then the house was too much like home and just reminded him of what he’d never have. The fact that his sister, Nola, had started reaching out was not a good sign, and it wasn’t something he was mentally prepared for. He’d left the old pack for a reason and it wasn’t a happy one.
He pushed away the thought and paced on down the block. There had been more trouble in the city lately, after a long stretch where everyone got along and things stayed quiet. It had been too good to be true after everything that happened previously. The rest of SilverLine had had a few run-ins with wolves and coyotes from outside the city trying to horn in on their territory, so Henry volunteered to run a few nightly loops to keep an eye on things. He never slept well anyway, so it wasn’t a burden for him to wander around outside.
At least the moon was only half full, so the real craziness was still a few weeks away. All the weird shit happened during the full moon, even with shifters. Especially with shifters. Something scuffled in the distance and his attention perked up immediately. It could have been nothing. A bum maybe, searching for cans or a better place to bed down, or maybe a raccoon searching for dinner. Or maybe it was those damn coyotes.
Henry debated calling it in and getting a team out to back him up, then tucked his phone away and headed in the direction of the motion anyway. He wasn’t much of a leader if he couldn’t deal with a little investigation on his own. It wasn’t worth rousing everyone else out of bed for, unless it was the full coyote pack. He was a timber wolf raised in the mountains; if he couldn’t handle a few coyotes on his own, he didn’t deserve to be third in command of the pack.
A new scent drifted on the breeze and caught his attention. Definitely not a coyote. Someone almost human and definitely female, but smelling a bit like Deirdre. Maybe smelling like magic or at least witches. He made a thoughtful noise and moved a little faster. He knew there were other witches in the city, none of whom Deirdre associated with, and he’d long been concerned that maybe they’d take sides with the coyotes or another pack and cause trouble for SilverLine. He had no patience for that. No one threatened Evershaw’s mate or the SilverLine pack. They were family—his family.
Henry growled as he got closer and heard a calm, clear voice say, “I call on the power of the Bell and Book, on the strength of the Oak and Ash, on the light of the stars and moon. Be gone from here.”
His skin prickled as static filled the air and crackled with that peculiar tension he recognized as magic. Henry eased closer through an alley to where a circle of coyotes and wolves stood around a tall young woman in ragged clothes. His eyes narrowed. She could command a whole pack? Who the hell was the girl? He’d never smelled anything like her before, even with Deirdre’s magic as a reference.
She moved her hands together, like she wove strands through the air, and he sneezed as the static rippled through the air.
The girl and all the animals turned to look in his direction, and he swallowed a curse. So much for sneaking up on them. The witch’s expression fell, like he was just one on top of too many pieces of bad news, and she took a shaky breath. “Seriously? What the hell do you want?”
The accusation in her voice made him bristle, though he kept a close eye on the coyotes as they inched closer to her. So maybe she wasn’t commanding the pack but was surrounded instead. “You’re on my territory. Witches doing magic on my territory are to be investigated, so... I’m here. Investigating.”
“W-Witches?” she said, and her hands fell. The tension in the air ratcheted up still more, as if she’d dropped something and ended up causing ripples of magic that bumped up against him. He didn’t like it at all. “What witches?”
One of the coyotes growled, and the rest of the pack split their attention between Henry and the witch. He had just a moment to wish he’d called for backup when the bastards attacked.
Henry dodged the first few sets of teeth snapping at his throat and dropped to all fours as he shifted to his wolf shape. He outweighed the coyotes in wolf and human form, but he had more of an advantage when he was on four legs. Henry snarled and snapped, holding off most of the coyotes while the rest leapt at the witch.
She held her own initially, zapping and zipping magic out at the animals that nipped at her heels, but it wasn’t long until she tired. Or maybe she just didn’t want to kill the coyotes. He didn’t have that problem, and dispatched at least two of them before the rest finally took him seriously. They managed to bite his legs and nearly broke his arm, but he shook them off and charged toward the witch. He didn’t know who the hell she was or what she wanted in that part of the city, though he wouldn’t get a chance to find out if the coyotes killed her first. And he wasn’t about to let shifters kill a young woman when he could do something about it, even if she wasn’t technically his to protect.
She screamed and kicked at one of the animals that got too close, whatever magic she had forgotten in favor of swinging a massive bag around to beat them back. Henry growled and charged, determined to get her to safety so he could figure out what kind of a threat she actually was, and shouldered aside one of the large coyotes to lean against the girl’s legs. She staggered and almost fell, and as she lost her balance, her hand brushed his side and sent fishhooks of magic right through him.
It felt like she tried to pull his guts out through his skin. Henry howled and backed away, baring his teeth, as the girl’s wide eyes found him. She started to speak but the coyotes took his distraction as an opportunity, and leapt.
Chapter 3
Ophelia
My stomach dropped and turned over when the good-looking man who’d appeared out of the shadows turned himself inside out and ended up as a wolf. I nearly tossed my cookies right there in the street on top of the coyotes, which would have served them right, but then there wasn’t time to think about anything. The dogs and coyotes started nipping at me and trying to drive me away from where the wolf started tearing them all apart. The scent of blood made the bile rise in my throat until my whole mouth tasted bitter, and I struggled to control a wild surge of magic.
I didn’t like uncontrolled magic. I liked order and neatness, and evenly woven spells. Delicate patterns and predictable connections. Like weaving and knitting and crochet. But as panic consumed me... all of that disappeared. The urge to survive, to fight until there was nothing left, replaced that need for order, and I lashed out at the coyotes with all of my might.
Everything blurred i
nto chaos and darkness and pain as the sharp teeth of the animals found my legs and even my arms and wrists a few times when I wasn’t careful. Magic kept them at bay for only so long. Then I turned and the enormous timber wolf—his shoulder easily as high as my hip—was beside me. I braced myself to die, since there was no way I could have fought him off, and marshaled what remained of that wild magic as a defense, just in case.
It ended up discharging off against the wolf, and he gave me a look like I’d somehow betrayed him. The very human expression on a lupine face threw me off-balance, and I stared at him without moving. What the hell was going on? Had I lost my mind? Humans didn’t turn into animals. Even with magic in the world, werewolves didn’t really exist. It had to be a glamour or some other spell.
Tears blurred my vision and I stomped my foot, magic rolling out in a tidal wave that knocked everyone else down. I wasn’t too proud to run, since I’d just about expended all of my magic, and bolted. One or two coyotes chased after me half-heartedly but gave up after about a block. I tried not to look a gift horse in the mouth and didn’t look back. No doubt I’d used enough magic that Rocko could find me easily.