Page 12 of Princess (Marinah and the Apocalypse #5)

Marinah

Hellhounds advanced from the road we’d driven in on. I stopped counting at ten. I hadn’t seen this many together, other than the Federation’s attack, for over a year.

The teenage boy who had stepped off the plane first reacted instantly, pulling a knife from his waist. The other three teens, two girls and another boy, rushed forward with him, weapons in hand.

The hellhounds’ sharp claws and teeth gleamed in the dim light.

Their forms were deceptive. The true horror emerged when you saw them strung up.

King’s men had captured two alive, and their elongated limbs stretched grotesquely, arms unfurling from too-broad shoulders with legs that extended downward in an unnatural way for canines. They were actually dead humans.

Their appearance wasn’t the worst part, though.

This group seemed different. It was like someone controlled them.

They weren’t behaving as erratically as what happened when the whistles were used to control them.

These movements were almost orchestrated, and I’ll admit it freaked me out.

I had often wondered if a tiny bit of their humanity remained behind.

If so, I hadn’t seen it, yet. Actually, I didn’t want to see it.

So much easier to think their brains were mush and there was nothing left inside.

We weren’t sure if older human corpses that turned into hellhounds were natural selection via the modified formaldehyde or if they all turned, and the newer corpses formed a different breed.

Either way, they were our human dead, twisted into something monstrous.

If you didn’t know what they were, the signs were easy to miss.

Until King told me what I was looking at, I didn’t see the truth.

They were also hard to kill, and the only way to do it was to remove the head. They turned to ash shortly after death, as if the horror they embodied refused to leave a trace. It made studying their corpses impossible.

The humans, including the children, were in serious danger.

I shifted to Ms. Beast mid-stride, my body flowing into Warrior form effortlessly with a strong burst of K-5, the hormones and chemicals that gave us the ability to shift.

The nightmare I had this morning flashed through my mind, and I had to shake it away.

I ran and leapt over the teens, clearing their heads by a foot.

King stayed close beside me, his powerful muscles sending him even higher.

My Warrior form incorporated the baby, and my stomach didn’t stick out more than a few inches.

“Guard the children!” I commanded the Shadow Warriors who were moving toward the action. I glanced back at the teens. “Their bite won’t harm us, but it will kill you. Stay back!”

A low, guttural snarl rolled through the darkness. Gleaming eyes locked onto me and King.

The stench of cloying rot thickened the air. My senses sharpened, and K-5 pounded through my veins. Growls vibrated deep inside my chest. Ms. Beast wanted blood.

Beside me, King’s Warrior form was a thing of sheer power. His massive frame bristled with raw energy, his fur rippling like liquid fire under the tarmac lights.

The lead hound came at me, a blur of coiled muscle and jagged teeth. I pivoted to meet the attack, claws flashing as I raked them across its throat.

The sound of tearing flesh met my ears, and black blood splattered around me. The beast howled, its body convulsing violently before it collapsed. I quickly decapitated it with my claws.

Another sprang from the left, jaws snapping at my shoulder.

I caught it mid-leap and sliced through its ribs, carving deep.

It made a low guttural sound, twisted violently, and its claws raked across my side.

Fire lanced through the wounds, but I didn’t slow down.

I drove forward, slamming my weight into its chest, sending it to the tarmac.

My teeth found its throat and I tore at flesh, and with another brutal bite, its body went limp, and its half-severed head hung uselessly from shredded tendons.

I caught sight of King. A hellhound lunged at him, but he caught it mid-air, his jaws locking onto its neck.

The beast thrashed, its body whipping like a ragdoll before he hurled it into two others.

They tumbled, snarling, but King was already moving.

His claws sank deep into another hound, carving deep furrows down its spine.

The creature shrieked, its body spasming before it collapsed.

I caught a rush of movement slightly behind me. Too close.

I spun just in time to dodge teeth that barely missed my leg. Another hellhound struck from the other direction, and its claws raked across my back. Hot pain flared. I turned with a snarl, my teeth finding its throat. Then, I tore.

Flesh ripped apart.

More blood sprayed around me. The hellhound gave a strangled gurgle before it crumpled, lifeless. We killed two more. The remaining beasts hesitated now, hackles raised, their glowing eyes flickering between King and me. They were fucking calculating their next move.

Two lunged towards King at once. One clamped its jaws onto his shoulder, and King roared.

His massive hands shot out, and his claws severed its spine.

Then he crushed. The glorious snap echoed in my ears.

He tore its head from its body, flinging it aside like discarded trash. I took out another and then another.

The last hellhound bolted straight toward the teenagers.

A thunderous growl tore from my throat. I sprinted across the tarmac, my muscles burning. I wouldn’t make it in time. The hound leaped, fangs extended.

The lead male teen moved fast and jabbed his knife into its stomach. One of the girls followed, her knife slicing across its throat though she didn’t sever it. They jumped back, and the other two teens moved in.

Stab. Dodge. Slice. Jump. They worked like a seamless unit.

The hellhound went down and stayed down in under ten seconds.

My breath came heavy as I scanned the nearly silent battlefield. Headless corpses littered the area, their black blood pooling in thick, inky puddles that would soon be dust. King stood over the last one, his chest heaved, his fur was covered in streaks of blood.

His blue eyes met mine.

A quiet understanding passed between us.

The battle was over.

For now.

I shifted back to human, still covered in blood.

Intense body aches from the hellhound bites and scratches assailed me, and I tried not to show it.

Warm blood trailed down my arms and legs in thin rivulets.

The children stared, some wide-eyed with awe, others frozen in terror, their small bodies pressed together like a flock of startled birds.

I turned toward them, forcing my voice to stay calm. “You’re safe now.”

King stepped beside me and slowed his breathing. “Welcome to your new home.”

That was King and I, communication specialists, not.

My gaze shifted to the four teens. “Have any of you been scratched or bitten?”

They exchanged quick glances then scanned each other for wounds. They understood that a single drop of hellhound saliva in a wound or even a minor scratch meant death.

“No,” one of the girls confirmed.

I studied them. “I’m not sure why you’re here,” I said, not unkindly. “You can fight. Surely the outposts needed you?”

The boy who had sneered earlier lifted his chin, his grip tightening around his knife. He pointed it, not in threat, but in fierce protectiveness, toward the children huddled behind the Warriors.

“They are our family. And we aren’t leaving them.”

The sneer may have been gone from his face, but his voice still carried its edge.

I met his gaze. “I have no intention of separating those who want to stay together.” I gave them a nod of respect. “Thank you for your help. Will you assure the children that they are safe and we mean them no harm?”

The boy didn’t answer immediately. His eyes raked over me, as if weighing my sincerity. But before he spoke, the same girl who had answered my previous question replied.

“Yes, we will,” she said.

The four teens turned and walked toward the younger children. They had the discipline of soldiers, and the wariness of survivors.

I glanced at King. “They can fight.”

“I saw.” His voice was contemplative. “With a little extra training, we can use them.” A sardonic smile tugged at his lips. “Now, tell me, did this quench your thirst for hellhound blood, or are we still heading out tonight?”

I yawned, exhaustion tugging at my limbs. “It’ll take hours to settle the kids. I’ll wait to answer.”

I stole another glance at the teens. “They aren’t afraid of us.”

King shifted to human. “That’s an interesting turn of events.”

His tone was thoughtful. “The mayors were.”

I smirked. “I don’t think Carmen was afraid of us. She was worried the men with her would do something stupid, and she wouldn’t be able to fix it.”

King grunted. “Said every woman everywhere.”

I didn’t agree or disagree. Some things were just true.

The children were guided into vehicles, their small, weary faces barely visible through the windows. King and I took up guard duty, riding alongside the vehicles on motorbikes, our senses on overdrive in case of another attack.

I’d had constant arguments with Axel about riding a motorcycle.

It was getting to the point where I needed to listen to him.

My stomach felt almost too heavy as I bent low and moved with the bike.

King wisely kept his mouth shut about my mode of transportation.

This would be my last ride until the birth. I could live with it.

Baby safe , Ms. Beast said.

Yes, baby safe , I assured her.

The roads remained quiet, and we didn’t encounter additional hellhounds.

When we arrived at the citadel, the kids climbed out of the cars, disheveled and their movements sluggish from the long journey. Missy still carried the toddler. He was asleep in her arms.