Short, I apologize…but I was going for quality over quantity. Decided to stretch some descriptive muscles while keeping it concise.

When Cate had come to, she had almost fainted again upon realizing what she had done. She had then proceeded to scream and fight so desperately that even Dwayne had trouble restraining her. As a last resort he dragged her, kicking and shrieking, down the hall and locked her in the room at the end. It was the only room that locked from the outside, and luckily Paul had discovered it a few days ago when he and Marko were rat-hunting. He had had a wonderful time sniggering and listening at the door after locking Marko inside, having claimed to have seen a rat in the room. It was the most fun he had seen all week, dancing around the door and gleefully chuckling as Marko cursed the door, then Paul, then whatever beast had brought him into the world. He had eventually let him out only to be greeting by Marko's small but extremely pissed-off fist, and a scrap had ensued that left both of them quite out of breath and scratched up.

In any case, it took quite a while for Cate to calm down; she had lungs on her like he had never heard. But eventually the curses and cries became quiet. He still didn't open the door. It was like quarantine for the first individual with signs of plague. None of them could take chances with her now. She couldn't be trusted, she could infect them all like a virus.

The hunger was spreading. It was like a flock of birds when one had hit a telephone wire. The symmetric V was gone, and they were swerving. But no one would move, no one would change course, because staying in that pattern was all they knew. They couldn't change their most basic instinct. And they would keep swerving until thy crashed. David was extremely woozy but had begun coming back around due to a drink from Paul's arm. He ignored all of their garbled, nonstop questions, rubbing one eyebrow with a shaky hand. He didn't know the answers, and even if he did, he didn't want to talk about it. Forget being injured, forget being weak and thirsty…he was betrayed. He wasn't sure whether to feel threatened by her, or furious that his charge has turned so quickly against him. Not just his charge, not just his child, but his girl. Half of him wanted to go down to the locked bedroom and beat the hell out of her. Beat the hell out of her and kill her, suck her dry, How DARE she?

The growling beast of his ego was pacing in his head angrily, waiting to be let out. It beat against the cage of his common sense, sticking its ugly muzzle in between the bars to sneer at him. After all, this was the cage that had kept it in check long enough for the body that hosted it to be almost killed, because of a mistake that it could have prevented. I would never have let her get that close. I would never have let my guard down. It purred to him in a guttural tone. But the other half of him knew that it was his fault for leaving himself so open. And he knew he couldn't bring himself to kill her. Anyone else would have their throat laid open inside a minute…but not her. Not her. He had made a promise, and was damn well going to keep it.

He was standing over the bathroom sink with the water running, staring up at his reflection out from under his eyelids. The face staring back at him was almost haggard. The usual dark circles under his eyes are turned to a sickening blue color. His white hair was limply mussed, unlike his usual fashionable spiking, and was turning a dull, brassy color. No more slick, snug black shirts and trenchcoats; the only thing he had one was a white t-shirt, streaked with dirt, so worn it was almost threadbare in a few places, and a pair of jeans he had borrowed from Adrian, who was a good twenty-five or so pounds under him so they were slightly on the tight side.

He sneered at himself in the mirror weakly, disgusted with the face that sneered back. Really intimidating. Yeah, right.

They had started to break at the seams, and he knew what was coming next. It would only be a day or two before the rest would follow Cate's example…she was powerful in some ways, but hadn't learned to control her hunger yet. They were much better at that than she, but even they had their limits. It was coming down to an ultimatum. Lath had to be challenged. Sitting around like ducks waiting for the poacher wasn't going to do one single goddamn thing. It was time to DO something.

And he knew what that something was. It wasn't going to be pretty.

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Adrian took a quick sniff at the faint scent of evening air creeping in from under the front door. He was motionless, focused on the door-handle, which seemed to almost writhe in the dim light, begging him to turn it.

He stood still. He had stripped to nothing but the small silver chain around his neck that Cate had given him years ago. The thin metal traced its way around his neck like a cold, circular vein. For luck, she had told him, when he went out with the older men for the first hunt. Just for luck. But he had never taken it off. His topline was standing up straight all along his back advertising his tension. Like a greyhound in the slips, he was ready to go, ready to run. Except this time, he would be the rabbit, not the dog.

His hand moved towards the handle.

One mile to the road

Two miles to the valley

Two and a half total to the river.

The handle turned under his gentle pressure. He heard a soft, sleepy growling begin outside as the hellhounds sensed movement.

Two and a half miles.

The handle turned farther and he let his body take over. His topline spread outwards around his back and stomach like it was wrapping him in a cloak. Pale skin was replaced by a thick coat of fur, double-layered and rough. He felt his thighs extend and knees turn inwards, and he dropped down to all fours precisely, unhindered by the pull of clothes. As soon as his hands hit the floor, they were no longer hands - a huge pair of black-padded paws, claws clicking against the hardwood floor.

All the door needed was a push outwards.

The wolf lifted his upper lip, exposing a gleaming set of incisors, the canines hanging down like ivory icicles behind them. And, with a fluid but violent thrust, he threw his huge black shoulder into the door, exploding into the evening outside.

The chase began.

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The eruption of howls from outside brought everyone, even David, rushing to the window. Marko got there first and stood alongside the window frame, gingerly peeking around it. The last time one of them had tried to look, a silver bullet had crashed through the glass. But it seemed like their captors were distracted. There was no weapon, no bullet, nothing. It was like they had turned all of their attention away from the house on to something else. There were human voices amidst the cried of the dogs, but they were only barely intelligible.

"Get them back!"

"They're all going for it, call them off!"

"God dammit, they won't listen, beasts!"

Marko's eyes grew as big as dinnerplates as he watched hound after hound joined a huge, thundering pack, all of them taking off around the back side of the house as if they were chasing something. It was as if someone had thrown a truckload of tennis balls across the field. "They're going –"

But David had already gone to the windows on the other side, making it there by the time Marko had finished his sentence, despite his weakness. The entire hellhound pack, at least thirty of them, was taking off away from the house in a single mob, barking and frothing. There was barely a space of dead air in between them, they were so closely packed it was like watching a shoal of fish. In the lead, only a few lengths ahead of them, was a huge black dog. No…not a dog…

"Call them off!" Lath's distinctly shrill voice could be heard over the caucophony.

"Holy….." David murmured. It was Adrian, he was sure of it. Hellhounds, like Rita had said, were only barely controllable. If something seemed more interesting to them than their human master, they would do their own thing. They were owned by no one, they only did another's bidding until something better came alone. But the wolf didn't look like he was cutting and running. There was direction in the his escape. He was leading them. Leading them where? What the hell was going through that kid's head? But there wasn't time to wonder. Right now, without the hounds, was the only chance they had at fighting their way out. Whether Adrian was pulling the martyr card by leading the pack off, he didn't know, but he didn't really care either. "Get Cate, now! We're getting out."

The other three Boys had caught up with him. Dwayne took one look outside and his dark eyes hardened. "Where does he think he's going…."

"Fuck me sideways…"

"Paul, shut the hell up." Marko's voice was tinged with misery.

"I don't know, but right now we have one shot. Get Cate out of the room, we're going."

"David –" Dwayne began, not liking the hell-bent-for-leather tone that had entered David's voice.

"We're going!" David whirled and drew himself up to his full height, snarling at Dwayne. The ego-beast had gotten halfway out of its cage, fighting through the gaps in the bars. I told you so, I told you so. He wasn't about to be second guessed, not even in a wounded state. "I'm in charge, and you'll damn well listen to what I say. We're leaving."

The time had come, whether they were ready or not

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Earth flew up in clods under the wolf's feet as he urged its muscles to the breaking point. The hounds were faster, no doubt about it, but he had the advantage of heightened agility. Every time he ducked around a rock or zigzagged around an outcropping, they lost whatever slight gain they had made. But there was still over a mile to go and his legs were screaming in pain, his lungs heaving under the exertion. Froth dripped from his mouth as he pushed forward, tongue lolling in a desperate attempt to gain more breath. He couldn't falter, couldn't trip, not even once, or they would have him.

He raced along the side of the valley, paws thumping against the ground in an unyielding rhythm and green eyes scanning the horizon desperately for the telltale steam of the water cooling in the evening.

Daniel's thick, grandfatherly voice from years ago was intoning softly, over and over, in his head. The river was held sacred by the native tribes here. In fact, they still consider it an integral part of the culture of Mesita. They call it their Little Mother. When the missionaries came to this area, they immediately recognized how important this river was to the people, in a spiritual sense….so they decided to try and use that as a means to integrate the natives into the church. They brought two bishops, both of whom blessed the river in the name of Christ and renamed it, marking it as a holy landmark, touched by holy water from Rome itself and at the hand of venerable men. But the natives never ceased to consider it theirs. It had been part of them, their people, their religion, for too long. Blessed or not by the Christian missionaries, it was still their mother, and it is to this day.

He only hoped the story was true. If not….he didn't want to think about "if not". Millions of gallons of holy water would wipe out the entire pack…when he jumped from the top edge of the valley, he knew they would all follow him in, like rabid lemmings. Even if it worked, he still had to find a way to swim out. Little Mother did not live up to her soft, feminine name. She was ravenous, as fast and deadly as a riptide, spotted with rocks and whitewater. All it would take was one collision to break his legs, break his ribs, or knock him senseless, and he would drown. But it was a chance that needed to be taken.

Brown dust stuck to the moist, dark skin of his nose and he coughed in mid-stride, trying not to break the pace. Just keep going. Keep going. Keep going.

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Why are you doing this?

Do I need a reason?

Everyone has a reason.

You didn't answer my question. Do I need a reason?

Of course you do.

Wrong answer. I don't need a reason. I don't have a reason. I just want to see you dead.

Because of my clan?

No.

Because of the others here?

No. You aren't listening. I don't have a reason.

You must.

I don't. All I want is to see your guts spread out across this field, yours along with the rest that came out before you. It's very simple. No rage, no revenge, nothing like that involved. I just want to see you dead.

You're insane.

Perhaps I am. Or maybe I'm the culmination of everything you admire in a killing machine. I don't need emotion, I don't need a reason. I just do what I do. Why, don't you? Or are you still tamed?

Cate sat with her back to the door, her eyes closed and head down. To anyone else, it would have looked like she had finally passed out from the exhaustion of screaming. But in reality, her mind was abuzz with energy. Lath was speaking to her. At first she had blocked him out, but her anguish over what had happened with David had weakened her defenses. She held her finger in the hole in the dike for as long as she could until the whole thing cracked, and Lath swept into her mind like a torrent.

What do you want?

I already said what I wanted. Don't try and give yourself up for them. I'm not on a vendetta. I don't bother with that. Just wait and see.

The breath was shallow in her lungs as she listened to his voice. She knew well enough that insanity was contagious, and he was trying to break her for good. He had gleaned all the details of their current state from her mind, and she could tell he was delighted. The little shocks of pleasure she could detect in his tone were enough to tell her that his confidence was growing by the minute.

"Cate!"

But that wasn't Lath. Her head whipped upwards and she opened her eyes, ignoring the sniggering, strident voice in her head telling her to ignore what she heard.

You tried to kill him. He's not going to come for you now.

"Cate, we're going, now!"

The door handle rattled furiously and she shook herself from her concentration. By the time she had gotten to her feet, the door had swung open and all four of the Boys were standing outside, all breathless. Marko and Paul both looked mildly terrified, but a look from Dwayne wiped the fear from their faces. He wasn't about to let them get her all riled up. He spoke before David could "We need to go, now. We have an opening."

Cate only barely heard him as she threw herself violently against David, wrapping her arms around his neck. Her mind repeated over and over I'msorryI'msorryI'msorryI'msorry….He grunted with surprise and gently disengaged her arms. I know. Later. Later, child, love, we have to go.

"An opening?" her own voice sounded strange in her ears as she peered over David's shoulder at Dwayne.

"Adrian made a run for it. The entire pack took off after him."

Cate's jaw dropped and she stared dumbly back at him. "He made a run for it? What the hell do you mean he made a run for it?"

"He just up, turned and left…" Marko answered.

"Why did he do that?"

But David was already pulling her away from the door, and the rest of them turned as well. "I have no fucking idea, but we'll deal with that later. Come on. Are you ready to do some killing?"

Cate's head spun as she tried to keep up with them. It was like being jerked back up to the surface from being underwater too long. "Wait –"

"No time for waiting."

Wait

Wait

Slow down

Too fast

Cate, we can't slow down.

They were at the front door, still ajar from when Adrian had left. Not even pausing for an instant, David shouldered his way through, the rest following. Outside it was just beginning to get dark…but it wasn't dark enough to hide the numbers they were up against. They paused, waiting until Lath's pack had turned, one by one, facing them with a combination of incredulity and excitement. Finally, they actually got to do something, fight something they could see. Muscle flexed, tongues licked ragged lips, and weapons clinked as they were lifted. Not a good move, kitty. Lath's sly voice came to her one last time, as she looked over the enemy in front of her. She couldn't tell where he was…but he was there somewhere allright. That crazy sonofabitch was there. Dwayne had already turned, his heavy features twisted in a growl that would have struck fear into the heart of any seasoned warrior. Marko and Paul had taken up ready stances, the amber light beginning to glow in their eyes.

"Only a score of em. Shouldn't be impossible." David growled, practically licking his chops. He glanced at Cate and saw the smirk on her face. He broke into a mad grin at the sight of it, and she caught his eye. A sharp exhale of breath, halfway between a snort and a chuckle, came from his mouth, and she smiled wider, her eyes burning.

Unable to control themselves, they both broke into laughter. Hyenas, both of them, hell bent to kill, hungry and cornered. They had both passed the mark of sanity, and the only thing on their minds was blood.

Are you ready?

Of course I am.

Now you'll learn to enjoy killing.

Believe me, I'm going to enjoy this.

I love you. Her eyes glinted with feral viciousness

I love you, too. He slid his tongue over his fangs.

And charged.