Tainted Blood (Book 2)

2. Friendly

Dean’s fingers worked the bobbypin in the lock. His father had made it impossible to break the cage, but you could pick the lock if need be. But it took time and patience. Two things angry werewolves usually didn’t have.

“Ah!” Olivia cried as she bent over, “It hurts.” She had been trying to stay off her second change ever since they had been thrown in the cage. But lack of water and food was making it next to impossible. Three days without food and water was killing them. Not to mention the fact that Dean, and probably Olivia too, could smell the decomposing bodies upstairs. Dean still wanted to know who the man was that let them go. Just threw them in the cage together, and left. Yelling that the room was clear after he let some shots off into the concrete wall. Dean glanced behind him at where the bullets struck the wall. Silver had run down the wall from the bullets, staining the wall. He could smell the toxicity of the silver, the same way people could smell bleach. The gas mask and riot gear covered any identifying features, all Dean had to remember him by was his voice. He would find him and thank him some day.

“Dean,” Olivia’s strained voice brought him back to the task at hand.

“I know, I know,” he hissed. His fingers turned the bobbypin sharply and the lock popped and the door swung open. He sat back on his ankles and smiled to himself. He had never been able to successfully pick a lock before then.

“So thirsty,” Olivia screeched as she stumbled past Dean. He scrambled to catch up to her as she all but ran up the stairs. He was silent as he moved, listening for any sign that someone or something was still in the house. Olivia turned on the faucet, and stuck her face under the flow, lapping as much water as she could. Dean stared around at the kitchen, it looked like a tornado went through it. He inhaled, there were so many different blood scents. He recognized his father’s instantly. He ran around the first floor, there was no sign of anyone from the pack. The only dead there, were the men dressed in riot gear. Dean rounded the corner into the kitchen to see Olivia on her knees next to the dead man. She was pulling the helmet off his head, her mouth was full of saliva.

“Ew! No! Have some decency,” Dean hissed at her. He kicked a box of saltines at her. She ripped into them hastily, still eyeing the body. Dean noted that her wolf eyes weren’t much different from her human eyes. They were ever so slightly darker. He hoped that her wolf was the one thinking about eating the dead person, but hunger and fatigue does all sorts of things to people. He was thankful that he had fasted with his father before. It made it easier for him to cope without food or water. He grabbed a glass and filled it with water, he took sips, as to not upset his stomach. He went into the fridge and pulled out a hunk of meat for Olivia. He handed it to her and she immediately started gnawing on it. He wasn’t going to pretend that his wolf wasn’t trying to convince him that the dead body was a good idea for food. But his human half was stronger than that.

“Slow down, you’ll get stomach cramps,” Dean told Olivia. She slowed. He leaned against the counter and looked out into the back yard, it was like nothing even happened. He wanted to avoid looking in the rest of the house. He wanted to avoid it like the plague. He knew there was good chance he would find the bodies of two pack members upstairs. Olivia wasn’t pack yet, she hadn’t felt two people die three days ago. He didn’t know who was dead, just that they weren’t high up in the pack. The loss he would’ve felt if his father or Virginia had died would have been debilitating. But he still didn’t want to see their bodies, experiencing that pain once was more than enough. He sighed heavily. He knew he had to look. Had to find out what happened. Who took their parents? He glanced to his left, at the bloody path left by a body being dragged across the floor. He didn’t want to think about the fact that whoever had them was heartless enough to leave their dead behind.

He wished silently that he would have made more of an effort to memorize scents. He couldn’t tell Michael and Samuel apart. Virginia and his father were easy. Cain and Abel were surprisingly close in scent, despite being two different species. He finished his glass of water and set it in the sink. He gestured for Olivia to get away from the dead body. She pushed herself away from it, closer to the fridge. She was more than content with her hunk of deer meat. The helmet was half pulled off his head. Dean pulled it the rest of the way off and set it down gently. He blinked back tears, he didn’t like the loss of life, even if they were trying to kill him. He closed the man’s eyes. He bled out, his clothing and gear were soaked with blood, and it was still a little damp. There was a dried pool around his body. His neck had been shredded by claws, it looked like ribbons of skin. He tried not to pay attention to the fact that he could see this man’s spine. He had never seen a human spine before, it was making him want to shit his pants. Dean began patting down his gear and pockets. He pulled the gun from the holster, there were no rounds left and he couldn’t find any extra bullets on him. He tucked the gun into the back of his pants in case he found bullets somewhere else.