His Reign (The Opeth Pack Saga Book 1) Page 11

  He opened his eyes and looked at Lukina. Her facial features scrunched together. “Because she’s too damn sensitive. Why isn’t she more like—”

  He stopped himself before he finished the sentence.

  “You know why.” Lukina stepped closer to him, yanking his cigar from his hand and drawing on it. She blew smoke above his head, rings danced in the air. “She’s truly Magyar, a real Hungarian, Józsi. Because of my importance in our pack, I’ve been forced to adopt the ways of Americans by being less direct and using my words carefully. But I haven’t forgotten my heritage. Why have you turned your back on us, Józsi?”

  His shoulders tensed. “I haven’t turned my back on you two.”

  Lukina took another hard draw on the cigar and blew a furious cloud of smoke in his face. She looked at him, her eyes as beautiful as they were emotional. “No, not exactly. But you lied to her, didn’t you?”

  He nodded.

  “Why, Józsi? Why didn’t you tell her about your dual citizenship?”

  "How did you know?"

  "I always know." She dropped ash in the tray before them.

  He sighed heavily, lowered his head in his hands. “Because this is my gut reaction, Lukina. My gut reaction is to ignore everything to do with that horrible pack. I don’t want this. I didn’t ask for any of it. If I could have my way, I’d disappear forever. I hate being a wolf. I hate being responsible for those I cannot protect. I hate being me, God damn it.”

  She took another long drag and handed him his cigar. “Too bad, Józsi. I won’t cry for you like she does. I’m too jaded. I lost part of my heritage, I’ll admit. I left part of myself locked inside my head and heart in order to do for the greater good of our pack but I haven't lost the important parts. Would you truly take yourself from us? Would you destroy not one but two hearts?”

  Shock at her words resonated within him. It broke his heart to think that he could ever be without either of them; they’d become an integral part of his life. The last few days had proved that. They had to count for something. He couldn’t respond to her. Tears stung the backs of his eyes, but he would not cry. Lukina seemed to take his silence as her answer.

  “I didn’t think so.” Lukina took another puff on his cigar and slumped down on his couch. “She’s sleeping now. You broke her heart, you asshole. You’re breaking mine right now with your pathetic behavior. If you’re going to act like a damn human, the least you could do is act like a man.”

  That comment really hurt his ego. Lukina never minced words, and she had that defiant tilt to her chin. She wouldn't apologize, either.

  Standing, he found his keys strode toward the door.

  “We will be here when you get back,” Lukina shouted and kept the cigar between her fingers.

  “Fine.” He swung the door open and started to slam it shut, but Lukina’s voice stopped him.

  “I’m not being mean out of spite,” she whispered.

  He barely heard her, but she had to know he did.

  The door closed behind him. Heading for his car, he unlocked the door, jammed the keys into the ignition and pulled onto NASA Road One. Heading for I-45, he made his way toward his place downtown.

  The roads were slick with ice. Traffic moved slowly. Texans didn’t know how to deal with ice on the roads. Hell, most people didn’t.

  Keeping a tight grip on the steering wheel, Józsi sped down the freeway toward downtown, careful to keep his car from skidding.

  In the rear view mirror, Józsi noticed another car, a black Toyota, following him, keeping pace with him unlike the other cars on the highway that were doing twenty miles less than the speed limit.

  Adrenaline flowed through him. “Here we go again.”

  The wolf inside had the desire to spin the car around and play chicken. The hell with the loss if he didn’t move in time.

  The rational part of his mind that was free of anger knew better.

  In his mirror, he saw a gun poke out from the passenger side. Looked like the SKS he was wishing for last night. Bastards!

  The driver pulled up behind Józsi.

  Józsi slowed and waited until the car was just behind him. He waited for the right moment.

  Seconds passed like eternity before the gun cocked and a round filled the chamber.

  Slamming his foot on the accelerator, Józsi sped car down the highway. Dodging an ice patch and several cars, he maneuvered carefully in and out of two lanes.

  The Toyota kept pace with him.

  Where could he lead them and keep as many people from getting hurt as possible?

  He was coming up on the I-45/I-59 South split. Snow began falling.

  “Shit.”

  Chapter 7

  It was now or never. Well, never actually meant speeding down I-59 South away from his condo toward downtown.

  A slew of bullets whizzed past his car, ricocheting off the median between the two lanes.

  A near miss caused him to swerve his car into the third lane, fishtailing his car. Fighting the threat of spinning out of control, Józsi’s death grip on the steering wheel tightened until his knuckles were white.

  An urge to let go of the wheel and slam into the barrier surfaced in his mind.

  “We will always love you.”

  Ilona’s words replayed in his mind alongside Lukina’s.

  Regaining control of the car, he felt a surge of regret that he’d even thought of letting down his loved ones.

  Bullets slammed into the trunk of his car, the sound echoing loudly. The smell of fresh gunpowder gave him an adrenaline boost.

  Józsi pulled the car into the lane beside him, hoping he could use the ice patches on the road to give him some distance.

  His pursuant kept pace with him still.

  “Damn.” His teeth clenched, he jerked the car into the fast lane, hard. Negotiating the turn down I-59 South was a bitch at a hundred and fifteen miles an hour, but he managed to do it with minimal swerving and skidding.

  The black Toyota followed closely, barely a second behind him.

  With his hyper sensitive abilities as a wolf, Józsi heard the gunman reload his weapon. Quick thinking would get him out of this position. Looking to his side, he saw the lane beside him clear. He had an idea.

  The road straightened out, giving them a long stretch of highway to accelerate. The car could still do 150 mph if he pushed it just right, maybe 160 with the ice helping him. It’d be dangerous but he wasn’t about to give up to these morons.

  Józsi waited until the car behind him was less than half a second behind him. He wondered if the driver was sweating or afraid. Between the motor oil burning, gasoline and his own pulse, he couldn’t make out the scent of his assailants.

  The black Toyota came with inches of Józsi’s bumper. At the last second, Józsi switched lanes and slowed down, tires screaming. Burning rubber reeked as the car slid, but slowed down considerably.

  The Toyota passed him.

  Now Józsi was in pursuit of his attackers.

  Still at least four seconds behind the Toyota, Józsi had to make a decision. How was he going to stop them and get information? He had one option. Could his car survive a direct hit?

  Hell no.

  He had no other choice. Without a gun of some sort, his only option was to slow them down with his vehicle.

  The Toyota tried to do the same thing to Józsi by switching lanes, but he caught onto them and sped up. Within seconds, Józsi was inches from their bumper.

  They accelerated and tried to change lanes again.

  He was behind them like white on rice.

  The gunman in the passenger seat rolled the window down again and stuck his gun out of the window. If he fired, Józsi would die instantly. The promixity . The proximity of them being so close, he knew the gunmen couldn't miss. It assured a messy death for him, though Józsi would make sure his body jerked on the gas and rammed his car into theirs in hopes of taking them with him.

  Time ran out. Sweat broke out on his foreh
ead, drips beading down almost into his eyes. He didn’t bother wiping his forehead. That’d cost precious seconds. Instead, he went for the plan he’d thought of earlier. Slamming on his gas pedal, he rammed the Toyota with his car, sending them jerking forward. The gunman nearly dropped his rifle.

  “Fuckers!” He yelled and rammed them again, sending them skidding into another lane. A vehicle beside them screeched, its tires screaming loudly. The car slammed into the back of the Toyota and sent it flying down the freeway. Something inside Józsi clicked, went off and called to the true murderous nature of his beast.

  The fight in his head started long ago by simply being born roared to life at the prospect of protecting what was his. These men would find Lukina and Ilona, harm them, and Józsi, wolf and man, could stop them.

  He'd finally been forced to acknowledge the war in his head.

  Humanity would have to remain in control, wolves couldn't drive for one. Plus, if he could figure this out, he may be able to get information from his assailants as to what their fucking game was.

  Józsi made sure to keep pace with the Toyota. Pulling up beside them, he edged his car into their lane, ramming them from the side.

  They skidded out onto the shoulder, hitting an ice patch on the way off the freeway that sent their car into a tailspin.

  Having been jarred from impact, Józsi spun his car onto the side of the road, sliding into the gravel. Immediately, he threw his door open and started for the Toyota, not aware that he had dropped his guard and was now on all fours charging toward them.

  The men scrambled out of the car and onto the freeway. The one with the assault rifle tried to aim for Józsi.

  Anger flared inside Józsi, fueling his actions. All the shit he’d taken over the last few days began to surface, latching onto his primal mind. Growling, he jumped on the man with the gun, pinning him down on the hard, cold concrete. Both ignored the few cars that whizzed by.

  Snarling, snapping his teeth in the man’s face, he saw panic spread across the gunman.

  “Where the fuck did you come from? Gregori? Help me,” the man began yelling, his head jerking from side to side. His eyes widened, fear seeping from his body.

  Józsi felt the victims’ blood pumping furiously through his body, knew it was close to the surface. He smelled the iron and chemicals in the man’s body, knew he must have been high. Knew he was very afraid of dying. Knew a simple bite would end everything but get him nowhere. Still, he didn’t care. Everything that happened in the past few days became too much to take. Without thought, Józsi let emotion take over. Anger seethed through his veins; blood pumped quickly through his rapidly beating heart. His eyes narrowed, focused on the man’s jugular. Saliva dripped down his muzzle. He took a deep breath and opened his jaws.

  The gunman's piercing scream hurt Józsi’s delicate ears.

  Cars were speeding around them, honking horns. A few cars nearly hit them. Józsi felt a sickness rise up inside him. Józsi got off the man, caught his breath and waited for serenity to return.

  The hunter rose and skittered off toward the shoulder.

  Józsi took off after him, enjoying the thrill of the chase.

  The man ran faster and faster each foot slamming into the ground and digging, pushing him forward, but Józsi was there at his heels, nipping and barking. A few more horns honked in the background. Cars slowed to a stop to watch the man get taken down.

  Everything Józsi hated about himself surfaced. Thoughts and ideas of his uselessness and inability to protect his loved ones from Kiba reared their ugly heads. Failure simmered just below the surface of his skin. Every nerve in his body carried some form of anger, hatred. Self-loathing.

  God damn human! God damn pack business! God damn Kiba! Why are you chasing me? I don’t’ fucking want this! I’m no fucking good!

  The man didn’t answer. He couldn’t speak Józsi’s language.

  Józsi lunged at him, catching his calf in his jaws.

  The man cried angrily. Spinning around, he stopped and tried to kick Józsi in the head but lost his balance and fell on his fat ass.

  “Why won’t you be our Alpha?” Lukina had asked him that a million times before.

  Blood poured into his mouth from the wound, the coppery taste a rewarding sensation from taking down a victim, food. Still, he didn’t want the job. It was too much. Too much responsibility for people he didn’t truly embrace, for things, beings he could care less for.

  “Why won’t you love us?” Ilona’s voice repeated in his head, though he could not recall if she actually said those words or not.

  “Don’t kill me!” The man screamed, scrambling and thrashing about. “I didn’t know you were real. I did just what I was told to do. I wasn’t supposed to harm the girls. Just you. The money’s in the car if you want it. The money was for my kid! I swear it! Please don’t kill me. Please don’t—”

  Józsi couldn’t take it anymore. The whining, the screaming, pleading. All signs of weakness.

  Peace settled in his mind.

  The fog lifted.

  He bit down on the man’s throat and ripped his vocal chords out, muting the gurgled cries that came from the man. His body twitched; the man’s eyes were open wide in shock. Józsi dug into his chest with his claws and ripped into his heart.

  The man’s body fell limp at his feet.

  It was over.

  Blood pounded in Józsi’s ears. It was all over. He’d murdered another man in cold blood.

  The authorities would be here soon. Television crews would probably be on the scene. Józsi had to get away. He had to get out of this place before someone caught him and shot him dead.

  Thankfully, his car wasn’t registered in his name, so he could leave it. Enough money coming in from his side businesses assured him anonymity.

  What a fucking mess he’d gotten himself into this time.

  Taking off down the road, Józsi hoped he had enough change to catch the Metro bus back downtown and to Clear Lake. He needed to get back to the girls now. His gut told him something was wrong.

  Internally, he couldn’t rationalize what he’d just done. He’d never taken a life brutally like that. Never hunted down a man in cold blood and killed him. The thrill was exciting, but wrong. Somehow Józsi knew he had done what needed to be done, but still hated it. Even a few days ago when he’d killed the man in Hungary, that was in self-defense. This entire situation could have been avoided had he been clear what he needed to do.

  Control had been stripped from him and he couldn’t have stopped it no matter how hard he tried. Kiba had won.

  Running down side streets, Józsi managed to find a bus. Walking in human form—the illusion had returned—he boarded the bus and made his way back toward downtown.

  When he changed buses and began the trip back to Clear Lake, he had time to stop and think. Despite the smell of various riders, stench from the apparently homeless guy in the corner and drunk behind the driver, Józsi found an empty seat. Tears stung the backs of his eyes. The pit of his stomach burned from what he’d just done. This was why he didn’t embrace himself as a wolf. It caused problems, confusion. People died.

  “Help me.” Those two words were all he could say, looking blankly at everyone who passed him to take a seat on the bus.

  When they arrived at the Bay Area Park and Ride, he got off the bus and began walking toward his condo. He wasn’t too far, thankfully. Ridding himself of the illusion of man, he sprinted through the snow and dirt back home, the burning pit in his stomach causing him more pain than he could imagine.

  But why?

  He saw his place from a distance and found the front door open.

  His heart began beating faster, harder, thundering in his chest. Again, blood pounded in his ears, loud and echoing sounds of panic.

  Stepping across the threshold, he expected to see Ilona and Lukina sitting on his couch. Or smell them in his room. He sniffed the air, suddenly aware of the destruction in his condo.

  The
lamp had been smashed and lay in pieces on the floor. His couch had been turned over onto its back.

  His heart sank in his chest. He couldn’t smell either of them.

  “Ilona? Lukina?” He darted from room to room, searching them thoroughly in case they had hidden in the closet. They were not there. He returned to the living room, ire coursing through his veins.

  Józsi noticed a figure out on the patio.

  Rushing to the patio, he threw open the glass door so hard it bounced against the frame and almost hit him before he shot a hand out and caught it. Les stood with a smoldering cigarette in his hand. His fists were trembling; his calm composure was gone. He turned to face Józsi.

  “This wasn’t supposed to happen this way.” His voice was shaky.

  Józsi straightened to his full height, just over six and a half feet, nearly four inches taller than Les. Lowering his head to stare directly into Les’s eyes, his nostrils flared. Hands itched to pick the elder wolf up and toss him through the window until he got answers or spilled enough blood. The human in Józsi recognized the moral flaw in his murderous logic. “Where are they?”

  Les met his stare and the one lime-green eye began to glow.

  Józsi still felt creeped out by the one lime-green eye.

  Les took a drag on the cigarette and blew out a cloud of smoke, watching it carefully. “I don’t know. I was chasing my brother and managed to lose him. Somehow—”

  Józsi grabbed him by the shirt collar. Lifting the other wolf off the ground, he tried to find the calm inside himself, but none came. Instead, he slammed Les against the brick wall of the apartment, “Where is your brother?”

  Les’s expression didn’t change. There was a hint of fear in his eyes, but mostly an emotion that Józsi couldn’t name. Anger? Rage?

  No, those were familiar to Józsi all too well.

  “Why don’t you ask the witch?” Les looked at the ground, seemingly uncaring that Józsi could tear out his throat.