Roar Page 8

  “We welcome you to the world,” we all repeat solemnly. I’m tempted to laugh at seeing everyone behaving so seriously, especially Bethany and Lily. In combination with Benjamin wearing a suit, it’s kind of comical. Still, I resist the temptation by focusing my gaze on my children.

  “Do you want to start, Kat?” he asks me quietly after a moment’s silence.

  I kind of wish he went first, but I get why he wants me to be the one to begin. I’m the mother, the woman who carried these four tiny people inside of me. Not for as long as mothers usually do, but I think the pain towards the end made up for that.

  I take a deep breath and press Tailie closer against my chest. “I promise to make you the happiest children in the world,” I say quietly, barely more than a whisper. “I will protect you with my life. I will steal you the stars and kill anyone wishing you harm. You will never want for anything. You will be raised with love and care. You will never lack for catnip.”

  “Kat!” Lily hisses. “That’s not appropriate.”

  I flash my teeth at her and continue. “I name you Liat Feln. May your name serve you well.” I gently kiss his forehead. Tailie – no, Liat – giggles and grins up at me. I don’t think he understood any of it, but I’m glad he’s not crying.

  “Liat Feln,” everyone echoes. I can almost hear Lily roll her eyes at my name choice, but she doesn’t comment on it.

  I step back and let Ryker take centre stage. He’s cradling Biter who’s fast asleep. Her brown hair seems to be growing with every day, much faster than that of her twin. We may have to give her a first haircut soon if this doesn’t slow down.

  “Little one,” Ryker begins, lovingly smiling down at his daughter. “We’ve been calling you Biter because you’ve been sinking your teeth into life from the moment you were born. You’re a fighter, a warrior, and that’s why I’ve chosen this name for you. Biter, I name you Bella after the belladonna plant. It may be one of the deadliest plants, but its flowers are as beautiful as its leaves are toxic. May you be as strong and deadly as the flower you’re named after.”

  “Bella Feln,” we all say solemnly before I meet his eyes and smile. He chose a good name.

  To my surprise, Gryphon joins Ryker with little Vamp. Unlike her twin sister, she’s wide awake and is taking in everything with rapt attention. “Let’s make this short,” he says while tickling his daughter under the chin. “You shall be Donna, the other part of belladonna. Together, you and Bella will be unstoppable.”

  My heart melts. Ryker and Gryphon must have agreed on this, which means they talked about names while I wasn’t with them. They’re behaving like true loving fathers. Which they are, I know that, but it’s good to see yet more proof of it. My right eye itches. In other people, that might be a tear trying to squeeze through, but in my case, I’m sure it’s just a speck of dust.

  “Donna Feln,” Gryphon says and we echo him.

  Together, they step back and Lennox takes their place, holding Furrie.

  “I’m not a poetic man,” Lennox says with a shrug. “So I shall call you Shade. You may not blend in with humans, but once the sun sets, you will become one with the night. You’ll move unseen unless you want to be noticed. You’re something new, something beautiful, and I will make sure you’ll never feel different within this family. And outside of this family, I’ll kill anyone who hurts you with words or weapons.” He grins down at her, a complete contrast to his words. “I love you, little Shade, just like I love your siblings. Welcome to the world.”

  Liat, Bella, Donna and Shade. I look at my babies and realise how well their names fit. The guys have done a great job. It won’t be hard to let go of the nicknames and call them by their real names from now on.

  Gryphon clears his throat again, getting everyone’s attention. “The next part of the ceremony has been modified by Kat.” He rolls his eyes with much drama before holding up a small bag. “Usually, we’d sprinkle flower petals over the babies, but Kat insisted that we use catnip instead. Help yourselves, just make sure they don’t get any into their eyes.”

  Lily snorts. “Kat, you’re incorrigible. Don’t you dare pass on your addiction to my nieces.”

  “They’re not your nieces.”

  “They sure are. If you tell them otherwise, I’ll tell them of the time you played with a ball of string and almost licked your-“

  “Alright,” I interrupt her. Gryphon must not have heard that story yet for his eyes are wide open and he looks like he’s about to combust with laughter. “They’re your nieces. Now go cover them in catnip like you’re supposed to. It’s for good luck or something like that.”

  “It’s a symbol of us promising to provide for them,” Bethany corrects in a surprisingly sombre voice. “And I intend to keep that promise.”

  She takes the bag from Gryphon and pulls out a handful of dried catnip leaves. They’re of the best quality, nice and big, not those tiny, shredded pieces you sometimes get with cat toys. Not that I’ve ever bought those.

  Bethany gently lays a few leaves on each of the babies’ foreheads, then hands the bag to Benjamin while shooting me a stern look. What happened to the fun-loving, never-serious Bethany? She’s been spending a lot of time with the litter, maybe too much time.

  One by one, my friends rub some catnip on the babies, until they smell so delicious that I want them all in my arms. Sadly, I’m not large enough – or maybe they’re not small enough anymore. Instead, I breathe in deep, smelling the sweet aroma of my babies mixed with the addictive aroma of catnip.

  I stand there with Liat on my arms, feeling a little out of sorts. Like this isn’t quite real. I should be out there, running over the rooftops, assassinating people, doing what I was trained to do. Instead, I’m in a cosy, suburban living room with my family and friends, cooing over babies.

  My life is unravelling and I’m not sure what to think of it. I both hate and love it. But once this ceremony is over, I need to get out of here for a moment and be Kat, the assassin again.

  The cool, fresh night air fills my lungs and I suck it in, revelling in finally being outside again. I shifted as soon as I was a few blocks away from the house where the city dissolves into rural land and am now running as a cat. My paws barely make a sound as I fly over the fields, running as fast as I can. I rejoice in the way my muscles stretch and tense, propelling my large body forwards.

  I’m free. A wild animal.

  I run and run, not caring where I’m going. It’s about the journey, not the destination. I only stop when my right front paw hits a sharp stone, painful enough to disturb my peaceful state of mind. I look at the damage, but it’s barely bleeding. I lick the pink pads on my paw, giggling mentally at the tickling sensation. I’m not ticklish as a human but I am as a panther. Go figure that one out.

  I’m at the edge of the Birchwood Forest, many miles away from Attenburgh. I’ve been here a few times before, but it’s been a while, even considering my long Delaney-induced absence. I don’t want to think of the sirens now, though. I simply want to enjoy this moment of peace, away from everything. Even from my family. I’m a cat; I’m a solitary creature. I’m trying hard to be social, but I realise now that I need to take time off more often. This is refilling my batteries – and I’m going to need a lot of energy in the coming weeks, I’m sure of it.

  A strange scent hits my nostrils. I sniff the air, then snuffle, expelling the flies I just breathed in. Evil little demons. Nature has its downsides. I breathe in again to try and focus on that scent. It’s familiar. Wolves, but not the good kind. It’s a sickly sweet smell, reminding me of honey.

  The memory rushes into my mind. Milk and honey. Their blood filling my mouth. The kitten I rescued. It was back home, shortly before we moved to Attenburgh. I was in a forest, just like I am now, and I came across three mutant wolves attacking a kitten. I killed them all – and then drank their blood. Saliva builds up in my mouth and I swallow, suddenly a little scared. I don’t want to go feral again.

  I breathe in
again. Now I’m sure it’s the same scent I smelled back then. Mutant wolves. Back then, Lennox had involved his employer, Mr Moon, who’d followed me back to the scene of the crime, so to speak. With the help of one of his Pride members, he’d figured out that a siren called the Hypnotisse had control over those wolves, but that was the last I’d heard of the matter. I assumed Mr Moon had dealt with it, but what if he hasn’t? I don’t want any feral wolves anywhere near my home. Only hours ago, I promised my babies that I’d keep them safe, and now siren-controlled wolves are in a forest nearby.

  I flash my teeth towards the direction of the scent. Wolves, I’m coming for you.

  Chapter Eleven

  I find them in a clearing, all three of them snoring so loud that I’m amazed their lungs are still intact. Maybe it’s a side effect of being mutants. Another side effect is that one of them has a human head and a wolf body. I can’t help but shudder at the sight. I can do partial shifts when I want to, but he must be stuck like that. Not quite animal, not quite human. His hair seamlessly turns into fur at the back of his neck, but his shaggy beard is very distinct from the fur on his throat.

  All three wolves stink of alcohol. A couple of villages lie on the outskirts of the forest, so they must have had a decent night of drinking at one of the pubs. I just hope they left the villagers alive.

  The old Kat would have killed them in their sleep. I hesitate. If I kill them without giving them a chance to defend themselves, I’m no better than them. Besides, they may be mutants who escaped their creators. They may not be as big a threat as I fear. I need more information which means I need them awake.

  The problem with that is that if I want to talk to them, I need to be human, but I don’t have any weapons on me. I can fight well without, but there are three of them, all of them equipped with sharp claws and teeth, and just one of me. Maybe I should kill two and keep the human-faced alive to question. That’s better than killing all three, right?

  I stretch my muscles, readying myself to strike when a new scent reaches me. Siren. And once again, it’s familiar. Fuck. This isn’t just any old siren. It’s the Hypnotisse, the crazed siren Mr Moon was after. She’s still alive. That changes things. These wolves must be under her control. At least that makes it easy. They’re going to die before I go after her. Not because I owe Mr Moon anything, but because she’s a threat to my family. Who knows, she might even work with the Attenburgh sirens if she’s this close to the town. I remember Mr Moon telling me that she’s part of a wealthy, powerful family, so who’s to say that this family isn’t based in Attenburgh.

  Her scent is faint but still fresh. She can’t have got far; she’s only got two legs after all. I sneak further into the clearing, extend my claws and launch myself at the closest snoring werewolf.

  My fur is drenched in blood, making it stick close to my skin. I need a bath, but I can’t smell any river or lake nearby. No matter, I’m going to get more blood on me once I’ve killed the Hypnotisse. Luckily, I feel no urge to lick the mutant blood off my fur. That must have been a one-time thing, thank the Great Cat in the Sky. The fight has made me a little hungry though.

  I follow the siren’s scent away from the clearing and deeper into the woods. I expected her to be headed to a village or even Attenburgh, but it seems she’s walking further away from civilisation. Strange. I wonder what she’s up to. Maybe I should keep her alive until she’s answered all my questions, but I remember that Mr Moon said that the Hypnotisse is strong enough to control shifters. I don’t want to find out if that includes me. Curiosity killed the cat, etcetera.

  She’s stayed alive despite Mr Moon and his Pride – he didn’t want to call his wolf followers his pack after leaving the Pack – hunting her, so she must be powerful indeed. I only met the werewolf once, but he struck me as both intelligent and capable.

  The scent leads me to a faint path, barely more than a deer track. I stay to its side, unwilling to leave the thick brush that camouflages me even better than the darkness. There may be more mutant wolves out there and as much fun as it would be to fight them, I’m going to deal with the Hypnotisse first, preferably without interruptions.

  I wish I had one of those siren disruptors with me. Lady Lara’s scientists have turned her anti-siren technology into a portable device that’s capable of weakening or even completely inhibiting siren powers. Gryphon told me that she tried it on him and while it didn’t take away all of his powers, it was extremely uncomfortable and made it hard for him to influence even the most weak-minded. Lady Lara offered to have collars made with one of those little machines attached, but I’ll be damned if I ever put on a collar again. Ryker considered it, but I think he refused because of me. I’d hate to see him – or any of my men and sisters – to wear a collar. The memory of having that metal thing around my neck, preventing me from shifting, keeping me under the Pack’s control, is too painful.

  I’ll just have to be quick and surprise her before she can use her voice on me.

  Her scent is getting stronger and by the time I see a flickering light in the distance, I can smell her perfume. If I knew anything about perfumes, I’d be able to identify it, but I’ve never used any. I wouldn’t want to disguise my wild, feline scent. I doubt the guys would like that either.

  A surprisingly large hut has been built in the centre of a clearing, much bigger than the one I killed the wolves in. The hut is old but in a good state; someone’s maintained it or maybe it’s even been lived in continuously. Who would want to live out here in the middle of nowhere though? Even I wouldn’t want to. It’s too far away from humans I’d want to kill. Too far away from decent food. I’d only live in a forest if I went feral and I don’t intend on doing that ever again. My cat and I have merged, no longer separate, making us more powerful than we were before.

  It must be the early hours of the morning by now, but there’s still light in the hut. I extend my senses. Only one heartbeat; she’s alone. I circle the hut, looking for any scents that might indicate that other people have been here, but I can only pick up the Hypnotisse and her wolves’ scents.

  The single-storey cabin has two doors, one to the front and a smaller one to the back. That one doesn’t look like it’s used a lot; moss is growing along the edges and a spider has woven a large, intricate web in a corner.

  This door might squeak if I use it, so it’s best to enter via the front or through a window. There are no attic windows, so my choice is limited. I listen out for the siren’s heartbeat again. She’s to my right, almost at the far wall of the house, and awake. Her breathing is regular and I doubt she knows I’m out here. That’s good. I’ll have the element of surprise. She doesn’t know yet that her wolves are dead. They were quite a distance away from here so I assume her link to them doesn’t extend this far.

  I’m so tempted to interrogate her, but I have neither my weapons nor my poisons. Without knowing the extent of her powers, I won’t take that risk. I may have in the past, but now I have others to think about. My babies will expect to drink from my boobs in the morning. I sigh. Now, as a panther, my nipples don’t hurt, but I know that once I shift, they will be sore again. I heal fast, but not fast enough for my children’s never-ending hunger.

  The window it is. The one at the other end of the house is slightly open and gives me a better chance of getting in undetected than the front door. As soon as I reach the window, I shift in one fluid motion until I stand on only two legs. It aches a little, but I ignore the pain. I’m already looking forward to shifting back and running home on four paws again. I don’t want this feline night-time adventure to be over yet.

  Slowly and with as much patience as I can muster, I pull open the window. It creaks a little but not enough that a normal human would hear. I climb through, landing on the wooden floor in a crouch. The room contains only a single bed and a large wardrobe, both carved from birchwood. It almost smells like the forest in here. Rustic but pretty. The bed is covered in siren stink and I can’t help but wrinkle my nose. For c
reatures so beautiful, their smell is diabolic, saying more about their true nature than their looks. The door leading to the rest of the house is closed, but I manage to open it without it screeching. The hut really is in good condition with well-oiled doors and spotless floors. Only the windows are dirty as if someone doesn’t want others to be able to look inside.

  A short hallway leads to two more rooms as well as the front entrance. It’s dark in here, the only light coming from beneath the door at the other end of the corridor. I walk in the rhythm of her heartbeat until I can put my hand on the door handle. Now it’s all about being fast. I need to run in and kill her in one movement. No hesitation. No questions.

  I reach for my old assassin persona, putting it on like a cloak. No emotions. No qualms. Just the mark and me.

  Life is surprisingly simple when you blend out everything but death. I hear her heartbeat as loud as if she were standing next to me. I smell her breath, her perfume. I sense her turning around just when I burst through the door. I take in the room, assessing it for threats, while at the same time running at the siren. A rustic, simple living room with an unlit fireplace. The candles on a low table throw flickering shadows across the Hypnotisse’s face. Even in the dim light, she’s stunning. Her blonde hair falls to her waist, reminding me of spun gold. She’s got a robe wrapped around her slender body, but her feet are bare on the cold wooden floor. She opens her mouth, probably to sing me into submission, but I’m faster. My hands close around her throat and I topple her to the floor, landing on her, using her to cushion my fall.

  She cries out in pain as her head crashes against a raised edge around the fireplace. Her eyes flicker close for a moment and I dare to hope that she’s unconscious, but then they open again and she glares at me with pure hate. I better make this quick.