Feral Darlings

Chapter Eighteen

With a smirk, he leads the way toward the city limits, his outlaws following suit as they breach the lines and wait for his next signal.

“ You ’ re not allowed to leave now.”

Invite them in, but make them stay, Pastor Hawkins said to me. They ’ ll have to listen; they won ’ t have a choice.

He arches an eyebrow, the smirk faltering on his lips.

Nearby, a howl splits the air.

Silas gave me two days to be with Elyse again, not realizing that it would fall when a Flower Moon would rise. You never were a smart son of a bitch, I think with a grim nod.

“ Kill ‘ em, Clemmy. Kill ‘ em all.”

A number of growls break out behind me as the sound of a thunderous and feral pack of overgrown, Moon Drunk monsters come out of every corner of Crescent Oak, heading straight for Silas and his Nocturnal Drifters.

I instantly grab Mollie by the arm and turn her toward me as soon as I can see the shift shining behind her mad eyes. I ’ m running out of time before she turns into one of them and won ’ t be able to answer an important question.

“ Mollie. Mollie!” I shout, giving her a shake. She turns her eyes toward me as her jaw begins to break and enlarge. “ Where ’ s Sara Belle?”

Her mandible snaps loudly as an elongated tongue drops out of her mouth, razor sharp teeth breaking through the ones she has.

Before her body hunches forward, then backward, her spine snapping over and over as the shift continues to grab hold of her, Mollie points an actively breaking finger toward her Saloon.

With a nod of thanks, I walk quickly away from the eminent war that ’ s going to break out as soon as I ’ m gone.

There are some things that some men shouldn ’ t be witness to, and one of those happens to be an apocalyptic fight amongst monsters, because I ’ m damn sure that by the time the smoke clears, one side will be completely wiped out.

Well, almost, I think grimly as I remove my pistol from the holster and walk through the double-doors of Mollie ’ s Midnight Saloon.

And they called the shifters rabid, I muse as I hear the sounds of Sara Belle ’ s feral anger upstairs. She ’ s making it easy for me to find her, and little does she know that ’ s the last thing she ’ ll ever do again.

I take the stairs two at a time until I ’ m on the landing and close my eyes for a moment.

Another angry, guttural scream followed by the sound of something crashing against the door, and I ’ ve pinpointed the bitch.

Pistol raised, I walk to the second door on the left and kick it off its hinges.

“ What ’ s going on?” she growls when I saunter into the room.

“ Can you feel it? Your kinfolk dying?” I ask her coldly as I stop a foot away from her.

“ Let me out of here, Mason,” she snarls, her eyes black as ever, as she readies herself for the fight of her life.

I cock the hammer on the pistol, press it quickly against her forehead, and give her a cold glare.

“ I may have pulled the trigger, but you ’ re the reason Elsye is dead.”

Her eyes widen slightly, then narrow in defiance, which makes something inside of me—the thing I had left that wanted all of this to end—come to the surface.

“ And now, you ’ ll have to take her place.”