Pic from ~mysticinvestigations.com~
Blood Moon howls and yowls, shapeshifter lovers.
In honor of this rare celestial event, here’s a flash scene about what happens if you dare intrude on Talbot’s Peak territory with the intention to harm.
About to quaff the blood moon ale Dante had brewed for the night’s howl and prowl through the forest in celebration of the first of four Blood Moons, Stone paused, the enormous stein held partway to his mouth. He’d sensed more than scented a rush toward the door by two horse shifter types, as had the three other musketeers in his wolf pack
One for all, and all for one, Stone and his pack glued their gazes on the biker bar’s well secured door, where two werewolf bouncer types stood guard. “Open the door, mates,” Dugger, the dingo shifter broke the sudden silence, “Before Catcher and Diamond bloody bust through. No use making Dante pay for–”
Too late… almost too late, either Catcher or Diamond shoulder-slammed the heavy wooden door as one of the bouncers whipped it open. A golden-coated stallion slid to a fast stop on the rough-hewn floor, followed by his sable colored buddy. The night’s blackness framed them while empty chairs and tables flew to the side — having already been deserted.
“What has your long tails in a knot, fellas?” Dugger tossed cool as ice amid the blowing snorts and anxious pawing of the two shifter studs.
“BLM troops,” a woman breathlessly shrilled from the doorway. The petite woman dressed in horse-endurance racing gear moved inward quick, grabbing hold of the sable stallion’s mane.
“Serenity, what is it?” Dugger’s better half, Symone approached, one hand on the long, strange super rifle slung across her shoulder. Stone had never seen the enhanced-human warrioress without it. ‘Course, his musketeer pack had only been part Dante’s patrol crew for the last six months.
“They’re building a staging whatever you call it,” Serenity burst out. “Weapons. SWAT vehicles. They’re, they’re massing on Talbot’s Peak territory.” She sucked in a breath. “Looks like they have the Turkles ranch in their cowardly sights,” she spat contemptuously. “We’ve got to do something. Now!” she shouted, her righteous passion obvious — her breaths heaving in and out.
“Scat, we’re in.” Stone leaped to his feet, his pack following. As they shed their leathers, and began their shifts, he growled, “Time for a Blood Moon rout of the enemy.”
“Yeah, mate.” Dugger’s guttural tone suggested he morphed to dingo.
“Let’s get it on,” Symone yelled.
Stone swore the woman’s blood blazed as fever-high wild as his — as his pack’s. Through wolfen eyes he watched the tall warrioress seize a handful of the golden stallion’s mane and jump astride. Serenity had already mounted her sable stallion lover, who now backed through the open door rapidly.
Dugger’s excited yip-yip-yip as he charged with Stone and his pack — following Catcher and Diamond — fired Stone’s bloodlust through his veins even bigger and badder.
Hunger stronger than while on the hunt for dinner, raged inside, owning every last wolf hair of Stone. Brute. Beast. Monster. Oh howls-scat, yeah, he was all of that. And more.
As if they chased the wind, the two stallions raced along a well-used forest trail that led to a long stretch of prairie. From what Stone mentally picked up from the woman, Serenity, the paramilitary encampment lay atop a great rise of ground yet in a hollow — somewhat shielded from view.
Not his view. Not his nose. As they broke out of the dark forest onto the moon brightened prairie, the stench of human sweat smacked Stone in the nostrils. Oh hell yeah, the blood game was on. These were seasoned killers, mercenaries of the worst sort.
Stone salivated to crunch their bones, spurt their blood. Eliminate them from beautiful Mother Earth.
He knew little about the Turkle ranch, only that a Turkey shifter family owned it, and they were right handy with rifles. Damn smart when living among predator shapeshifters, and surviving. Why the Turkles were targeted by the bureaucratic agency, if they were, mystified Stone. That is, unless their land held a value prized by those addicted to big money.
Catcher and Diamond’s hoofbeats resounded like low rolling thunder as they galloped over the Spring-awakened land. The blasting heat of bloodlust rolled off Stone and his pack… off Dugger and every wolf, coyote, big cat, and half-breed shapeshifter who ran with them on mostly silent paws.
“Lasers!” Symone shouted the warning over her shoulder. “Spread out,” she ordered. “Evade and attack.”
Scat sure enough, pencil-thin beams crisscrossed above them. Given he was in the lead, one laser weapon locked on Stone, between his eyes. He knew by the matrix-energy around him several of the others were also targeted.
Breaking his stride, Stone launched upward and to the side as shots rang out. Grinning, a super thrill sliding along his spine, he dug in sprinting past Catcher and Diamond. Amid whizzing bullets, his always-courageous pack ran loosely beside him, their scent as hot and savage for the taste of mercenary blood as his.
Howls hell no, you creepazoid bastards — not one of their shifter pack had been picked off, or injured. Stone would have sensed or heard the thud of a bullet penetrating flesh.
He credited Dante, given the alpha in charge held regular training sessions for this type of combat. Still grinning, Stone felt his energy spike to monster status. He saw through a red sheen now, and his muscles exploded with power.
Stone figured they were less than a mile out, and they raced uphill — faster than the average demon wolf. Oh scat yeah, faster. Oh, and by the way, enemies, our razor-sharp fangs rip through Kevlar like good raw steak.
A frenzied chaos of movement by the paramilitary troops, and shouted orders, entered Stone’s ears, but he hardly heard the words. What he knew, he and his musketeer pack led the charge inside the encampment.
Shots dully pinged into Mother Earth’s skin, missing Stone and his pack. Taser-like advanced weaponry buzzed like a den of pissed off rattlesnakes. Bolts of electricity hit Stone.
He grinned wider. That’s right, ape scat, give me the juice. Time for a Blood Moon rout.
Stone sprang, snapped his jaws around an aimed assault rifle, and crunched mangling the weapon. He flung it aside. Before his enemy could stumble backward, Stone sank his fangs into his exposed throat.
Wishing you full moon shapeshifting on the wild side…
Savanna Kougar ~ Run on the Wild Side of Romance ~