Free Wolfen by Alianne Donnelly Page A

a horde out of hiding. And all it took was
sacrificing a Wolfen.
    To draw so many here now, there had to be a lot of blood.
Bryce’s growl rumbled deep and long, and Aiden’s hackles rose in response,
aggression communicating between them without the need for words. One way or
another, they were getting into that garage.
    Opening fire on the horde was too risky—violence would only
rile them up. Bryce considered their options and decided on a diversion. From
two blocks down, a group of three converts approached. He checked the silencer
on his sniper’s rifle, aimed, and shot one’s throat out. The creature took
three more steps before the wound registered in his prehistoric mind and he stopped.
The other two were on him before he’d even hit the ground, ripping flesh off
bones, getting covered in blood. The scent carried far, like a miasma of decay.
One by one, converts raised their heads to sniff, then turned in that
direction, while several screeched a message Bryce had learned to associate
with “ Food! ” and took off for the meal. The horde fell on the three on
the ground, not bothering to distinguish between alive or dead, and the feeding
frenzy began.
    The parking garage entrance was clear.
    Aiden drove the truck in, but with the low height limit, he
was forced to stop just inside. As soon as they’d crossed the threshold, the
scent of Wolfen blood and people hit Bryce like a punch in the nose. His
hackles rose and his shoulders bowed; his head canted low, lips drawing back in
a vicious snarl he had to make a conscious effort to check.
    Aiden usually kept in better control, but when he stepped
out of the truck, Bryce saw the murderous gleam in his eyes.
    They could have followed their noses with ease, but in this
place, they didn’t need to. Agitated voices carried so well, Bryce was amazed
the converts had managed to hold back, even with Wolfen pheromones thick in the
air. The brothers followed a ramp down one level, then another, then Bryce brought
his gun up. They had no problems seeing in the dark; the humans wouldn’t be so
lucky.
    As they neared, the scent of blood grew much stronger.
Fingers cramping around the gun’s handle, Bryce sighted down the length of his
rifle’s barrel and picked out his target in the distance: a yellow X
spray-painted on the wall, centimeters over the shoulder of a man packing a
whole lot of blades.
    One shot. Silent and deadly.
    Dust sprayed up, but at first the blademan didn’t recognize
what caused it. When he did, he drew his knives, and a commando wannabe shot to
his feet, racing out of a blind corner and aiming an assault rifle at Aiden.
    “Weapons down,” Aiden ordered, his voice more animal than
human.
    Bryce saw the shock on the rifleman’s face. He lowered his
weapon immediately. The one with knives was slower to comply. Bryce decided to
kill him on principle. But not yet.
    The smell of blood, both human and Wolfen, was overwhelming
and so close together, Bryce had trouble distinguishing between them. The knife
guy was bleeding, but where was the other? He couldn’t tell where the scent was
coming from.
    “Who are you?” the rifleman asked. “Military? Marines? Did
you bring reinforcements?”
    Bryce felt a dark chuckle coming on. He bit it back, searching
for the Wolfen. “Who howled?”
    Aiden’s gaze flickered sideways to him. Bryce wasn’t what
Aiden liked to call “chatty,” so naturally, the first words to leave his mouth
in over two years would give his brother pause, but he covered his surprise well.
    Neither human moved nor spoke.
    “Answer him,” Aiden ordered.
    “Are there more of you?” The pretty boy rifleman had to be
the leader. “We have wounded. We need evac, STAT.”
    “Don’t make us ask again,” Aiden warned. It was more than
what most people usually got.
    Funny, the blademan hadn’t said anything yet. He kept
staring at their weapons as if he couldn’t wait to get his hands on them. There
was something sick in his small