Extinction Agenda

Chapter Seven

300 miles north of Montreal, Canada

It was a particularly harsh winter, even for a Full Blood.

Especially for a Full Blood.

The snow felt like jagged little icicles between Randolph’s toes as he bounded across wide stretches of open terrain. Winds ranked vengeful claws over his back, sinking deeper than any human bullet could ever go. Sounds normally found in the modern world had ground to a halt, leaving only the churning baritone of breaths pumped by unstoppable lungs to throw a plume of steam into the air directly in front of him.

While mankind scrambled to climb back to its feet and reassert itself, the shapeshifters had become a roiling storm.

Half Breeds charged and fed.

Mongrels burrowed under the ground in erratic patterns, never staying in one place long enough to create a home for themselves.

Full Bloods roamed the New World territories freely. The Torva’ox spilled from North America like a vein of oil that had been tapped by metal fingers. After one Full Blood soaked up some of that power, another crept across a different border to slake its thirst. Every one of them became more powerful, but none were as powerful as those who’d been there during the Breaking Moon. Against them, even the noisiest humans with the biggest machines were toothless and incapable. Randolph narrowed his eyes until his field of vision became a small tunnel through which snowy fields and naked trees streaked past him in a blur. When the scent of the First Deceiver became strongest, he dug his claws into the earth and kicked up a spray of frozen dirt while skidding to a halt.

Kawosa sat on top of a small rise with his front paws casually crossed and his hind legs tucked beneath a lanky body. His form was that of a long, lean coyote, which also happened to be his namesake, thanks to the first humans to have been bent by his flickering tongue. His fur was thinned in parts, perhaps to display the freshest scars. By the time Randolph stopped in front of him, Kawosa had propped himself up and taken a form that eased away from a pure animal and into a vaguely human body with pronounced ribs and limbs that stretched to well beyond natural proportions. “Hello, Birkyus,” he said. “I didn’t think you’d stay away so long.”

“I would have stayed away longer,” Randolph replied without any acknowledgment to his true name. “There’s no point in seeking refuge when the fire is spreading so quickly to anyplace I might be able to go.”

Kawosa’s was a trickster’s smile; steady and shallow. “You never go anywhere you don’t want to be. I trust you completed whatever business you had across the ocean?”

“I did.”

“And since you’re back now, I trust there is business to be conducted here.”

“There is.” Randolph lifted his nose to draw a sample of air that seemed to be frozen around him. It smelled of distant fires, clean snow, and dying trees. He closed his eyes and reveled in the comforting familiarity. When he exhaled, the werewolf’s snout shrank down and his fangs retracted so as not to impede his speech. Compared to the voice he’d used a moment ago, his next words were spoken with a richer timbre and the hint of an outdated accent. “Liam and Esteban may have acted too quickly, but these events were meant to happen.”

“There is no good time for war.”

“Violence can be a healing tool if applied at the right time and with the proper amount of force. I’ve learned that from the humans.”

“Cut just deep enough to get the job done, eh?”

“Yes,” Randolph said. “Perhaps I had been too easy on the Skinners after all. They were the ones to force these events into motion.”

“You’d been taking it easy on the Skinners?” Kawosa scoffed. “From what I overheard while I was in Lancroft’s care, you were one of the only things the old man feared.”

“Don’t try to get on my good side. I barely have one anymore. Where is Esteban?”

“Ever since he acquired the first Shadow Spore, he’s been stretching his newfound legs. Has he truly achieved the final stage of our evolution?”

“There is a reason why the Shadow Spore was cast aside. We are not meant to tread in the mists. Did you warn him of the dangers that come from using that gift too much?”

Kawosa’s grin wriggled on his face like a worm settling into the fur beneath his nose. “He didn’t ask.”

“Of course not. And what of the young one? Is she still in the custody of the Skinners?”

“That,” Kawosa said with a tone that was as overtly deadly as a Full Blood’s snarl, “was a mistake—to send her to them. Why would you betray your own kind that way, Birkyus?”

“I tried to protect her. I warned her about the Skinners. If she had been allowed to run with the others, she would have surely been used as nothing more than a lightning rod to draw attention away from the likes of Liam and Esteban. Once the Breaking Moon had set, she would have been killed before coming to terms with the power she’d acquired.”

“Perhaps you’re right. If she can’t fend for herself using the gifts she’s already got,” Kawosa declared, “then perhaps she doesn’t deserve to live. Especially in times like these. Or perhaps she can hand back the Jekhibar as a way to get in our good graces.” Smirking mischievously, he added, “Oh, that’s right. She handed that over to the Skinners as a way to repay her gratitude to them. What a gracious child.”

Now it was Randolph’s turn to put on a grim, humorless smile. As the expression drifted onto his face, he shifted into a human body that stood in the cold field as if transplanted there from a battleground several centuries in the past. His naked skin was covered in scars, many as fresh and aggravated as the one that marred his face. Thick muscles resided beneath his flesh, honed to a burly stature without the need of any supernatural enhancement. Crouching down to shield himself from a wind that tore across the Canadian landscape, he said, “Times like these. You mean times where the oldest shapeshifter there is, the first shapeshifter there ever was, lends a helping hand to the wretches who’ve been a thorn in our side since the first human was broken? Or consorted with the leeches who’ve made it their life’s work to nip at us when our backs are turned, or spread lies big enough to keep us away from their precious cities?”

“That’s Liam talking.”

“He hated the Nymar, as we all do. Perhaps his actions crossed a line, but at least he never went so far as to help them.”

“What are you accusing me of?” Kawosa asked in an offended tone.

“I’m accusing you of organizing the Nymar by pointing some of their leaders in the right direction to gain an advantage over the humans.”

All of the insulted, self-righteous rage that had flickered across Kawosa’s face melted away until only his familiar trickster’s grin remained. “Oh. You know about that, do you?”

“Of course I do. It’s not as if Esteban was ever very good at covering his tracks. Even in the days before photographs, he was happy to terrorize enough humans to be drawn perfectly in chalk or oils. Now, his scent permeates most of this continent. The only parts that don’t reek of him are the cities controlled by Nymar, and those cities reek of you.” Randolph dug his fingers into the snow and earth as his body shifted into a thicker frame with an extra layer of muscle and fur.

As Randolph’s form swelled, Kawosa’s dwindled down into a thin silhouette, like a candle being melted in the sun. His head hung low and his snout tapered to a point “Don’t raise your voice to me, boy,” he warned. “Just because you got me out of Lancroft’s pit doesn’t mean I’ll live the rest of my days indebted to you.”

“I don’t need your debt and I don’t expect your gratitude,” Randolph replied as if he was spitting out every foul-tasting word. “What you owe me is some respect! If not for me, you would still be rotting in Lancroft’s basement. Just another one of his amusements to be eventually passed around to the Skinners like a whore.”

Kawosa stood on two withered legs that barely seemed able to support him. His words were barely distinguishable beneath a throaty growl as he said, “I am your better, Full Blood. When you speak to me—”

“Shove your platitudes up your bony ass, Ktseena!” Randolph barked. “Your only strength is in your lies, and I never believed a word you said to begin with!”

“Not even when you asked me for the one favor you knew only I could provide?”

“You never had any intention of granting favors unless it benefited you. The reason you were removed from that prison was to upset the balance, draw the Skinners out of hiding and set this war into motion.”

“Which I have done.”

Leaning down to scowl directly into Kawosa’s face, Randolph said, “Look into my eyes and tell me you haven’t been guiding the leeches into strengthening their position.”

Kawosa shrugged and settled back down onto his haunches. “They intrigue me.”

“I know your fondness for the wretches. They grow stronger with every generation.”

“And considering how many humans are succumbing to the Breaking, one generation flows into another very quickly. With the Torva’ox flowing, it is easier than ever to shape them. Soon they will be almost as hard to kill as . . .”

“And there we have it,” Randolph said with a nod. “I’m actually surprised you even started to say it. And wipe that surprised look off your face. You say nothing that hasn’t been plotted, planned, and rearranged.”

“Actually, I’m surprised it took you this long to get so upset about the wretches becoming stronger. What kept you so busy? Still plotting your own little attempts to gain more power than your brethren? You kept young Cecile under your wing,” Kawosa pointed out. “You wanted to use her to hide the Jekhibar from me.”

“From you and all of the others.”

“Well you got your wish. At least,” Kawosa added, “for the moment.”

“That doesn’t excuse your involvement with the leeches,” Randolph continued. “Perhaps the lies that kept Full Bloods in the forests for so long weren’t of their own design.”

“Humans do so love the romantic notion of vampire royalty. I think they know how fragile they are as a species and so they want to worship something they see as erotic and desirable. Kind of like a prisoner who convinces themselves that their master is truly worth serving.”

“Is that what happened to you where Jonah Lancroft was concerned?” Crouching down a bit lower so he could dig his hind paws into the earth, Randolph asked, “Did you decide that it was better to lick his boots since you couldn’t find a way out of that dungeon on your own? The great First Deceiver became nothing more than a lying old fool who got caught by someone who was just a little bit craftier.”

“I know what you’re doing.”

“What’s that?”

“You want to earn my admiration so that I will take you into my favor.”

Those words rolled out of Kawosa’s mouth like a breeze that was just a bit colder and heavier than the ones already freezing the outermost layers of Randolph’s fur to a glistening, icy sheen. They swirled within the Full Blood’s head, causing his ears to twitch and his head to twist around as if in reaction to a beetle scurrying toward the interior of his skull. After a few seconds he snapped his head to the side, straightened it out and glared at Kawosa. “Your tricks don’t work on us.”

“Hmmm. Seems like that one got close. I have set things into motion. It’s what I do. Isn’t that why you freed me?”

“There’s enough in motion now,” Randolph said. “You know why I’ve sought you out this day.”

“Ahh yes. There’s still the matter of that favor you requested as a condition of my release. You want to find the other Mist Born. You want to seek out my brethren.” Kawosa’s eyes narrowed and his lips peeled back in a mildly disgusted grimace. “Somehow, you don’t seem worthy of such a gift. Casting your eyes upon me should be enough for now. Perhaps after you learn some respect for your elders . . .”

As Randolph shook his head, it became shaggier and thicker. Fangs slid in to fill his mouth, slicing through the sides of his face with the ease of a sharp stick piercing a cobweb. “You never intended to grant any favors. Anyone who knows your legend would have figured out as much.”

“You’d think so, wouldn’t you? Liam never lost sight of the truest nature of things, no matter how terrible it was.”

Randolph shook his head as if trying to jog something loose. His blue-gray eyes remained sharp even as his body shifted into its two-legged form. Still crouching, he was able to look down at the coyote creature with ease. When he stood on his hind legs, he might as well have been gazing down from a thousand feet above. “Liam partook in too much of the chaos he created. That’s why he’s dead.”

“He just wanted a change of scenery. What do you want, Randolph?”

After pulling in a deep breath, holding onto it and finally letting it go, the Full Blood told him, “Quiet. All I want is . . . quiet.” He started pacing then, circling Kawosa while the trickster only moved the muscles necessary to keep a constant distance between them.

“Even in the deepest woods before any of this started,” Randolph said, “I couldn’t get any quiet because Liam, the Mongrels, Esteban, the Skinners, the humans, the Nymar, even Minh, wouldn’t stop howling with madness and bloodlust. Once the Blood Blades were out of the picture, the Skinners were supposed to go back to their old ways. If nothing else, they were good at maintaining the Balance. After Liam’s farce of a siege against that first human city, larger steps needed to be taken.”

“Larger steps,” Kawosa snarled. “Like freeing me?”

“You are something that every Skinner but one still thought was a legend. When I caught your scent, I hardly believed it. But if Lancroft was keeping you squirreled away from his favorite Skinners, that made you a perfect wild card.”

“Ahhh, there’s Liam’s voice speaking through you once again.”

“Stop saying his name,” Randolph warned. “I knew him for several lifetimes, which means I’ve earned the right to speak about him after he’s gone. I was the only one among us who had the courage to say those things to his face. Even in the short time you ran at our sides, all you ever did was watch and listen.”

“It’s all I ever do,” Kawosa said in a voice only a bit louder than a whimper.

Randolph shook his head. “No. Even if I did believe any of your lies, I would never believe that one. You stir the pot. Going back to legends spoken in forgotten tongues, that’s all you’ve ever done.”

Kawosa’s eyelids drooped shut and he lifted his snout. “You were here in those days,” he said. “You heard their songs. Heard the rattle of their beads when they danced. So many of those songs were for me.”

“Not just for you. They were for all of the Mist Born elders. I come to you now because I only need to find one of them.”

Randolph’s statement hung in the air for a minute.

And then another minute.

The wind blew. Branches shook. Finally, the silence became too much for one of them to bear.

“Which one?” Kawosa asked.

“Icanchu.”

“You only care to find one of the twins? Chuna will be disappointed.”

“Where are they?”

Some of Kawosa’s fur settled back down to cover his back, and a hint of the sly grin eased onto his face. “I could have told you as much without all this fanfare. You’ll need to ask Jaden. She hasn’t left the jungles even with the flap of the Breaking Moon, but you shouldn’t have any trouble sniffing her out.”

“I’ll need you to arrange the meeting,” Randolph said. “The Mist Born have remained hidden so well that we don’t even know the true name of their species. The only reason you were found was because of your propensity for toying with humans to earn a starring role in their myths.”

“They are here. They have never left.”

“I didn’t come all this way just to swap riddles with you, trickster. I sought you out because I need to know exactly where to find Icanchu. I also need to know how to defeat him.”

“Defeat Icanchu?” Kawosa chuckled. “I think the high and mighty Full Bloods truly have become full of themselves.”

Randolph lunged forward with brutal efficiency. “I know you were toying with me, telling me whatever needed to be said so you could pounce on the chance of freedom I offered. But you’ve gone too far in spreading Esteban’s voice across the world.”

None of the menace in Randolph’s voice was lost on the other shapeshifter. Kawosa moved like the top layer of snow that was just barely brushed aside from the white-capped field around him. With a minimal amount of effort he kept himself facing the Full Blood while also staying outside of the range of claws or fangs. “I don’t know what you’re talking about.”

“Don’t mistake me for one of the idiots who swallow your lies. The Breaking Moon may have given Full Bloods the power to unleash the Breaking at will, but not to the extent that has been ravaging the humans in the recent months. When he howls, humans drop for miles in all directions. They become another generation of wretches, and the only one who benefits from so many generations of wretches is you. You, who crafts them into something you can control. Perhaps you seek to replace the Full Bloods with your Half Breed abominations because you never could quite dominate us the way you do them.”

“This isn’t the best way to gain my favor,” Kawosa warned.

“You mean the favor you would have dangled in front of me until I turned my back long enough for you to sink your claws into it? Keep it.”

“If you wish to challenge the likes of Icanchu, then I’m the least of your worries.”

“You were a necessary evil,” Randolph said. “As long as you were free to roam, my brethren would be watching you, and the humans would be preoccupied with whatever chaos you helped unleash. I thought your manipulation of the wretches’ bloodline would take a lot longer, but that doesn’t matter anymore. Now is the moment I’ve known was coming from the instant I freed you from Jonah Lancroft’s dungeon. Now is when you pay for your freedom by giving me what I need to steal Icanchu’s prize.”

“And what happens if I don’t do as you ask?”

“Then I’ll be forced to assert myself.”

“That isn’t quite a threat,” Kawosa reminded him. “There’s a little room before you commit yourself that far. Back away now and I’ll assume you’re overly enthusiastic. Quite understandable in these volatile times.”

“All right. How’s this? Give me what I want, make good on repaying a debt that allowed you to smell this fine winter air instead of the dusty rock beneath Lancroft’s basement, or I’ll tear your head from your shoulders and take it to Icanchu to show that jungle demon I truly mean business. Considering your reputation among the older Mist Born, both of the twins will thank me for silencing you.”

“Killing me won’t get you anywhere,” Kawosa snarled. “That is, if you can even accomplish such a feat.”

“You’re not a fighter, Ktseena,” Randolph warned. “Perhaps you should make good and be done with this. I’ve gone too far to turn back now.”

“Just because you haven’t seen me kill doesn’t mean I’m inexperienced in that arena. You don’t want to do this.”

Randolph blinked and cringed as he was assaulted by those last few words. Whatever power Kawosa put behind his lies to make someone immediately believe them, he was using it to its full extent. Somehow, whether through his shared lineage with the shapeshifter or through sheer force of will, Randolph withstood the barrage. “There are ways for us to benefit from ending this war.”

“But you want it only to end by your hand. To do that, your hand must be balled into the mightiest fist there has ever been. The quiet you seek will come at the expense of too many lives.”

“There are too many lives in this world as is,” Randolph growled. “Shapeshifter and human alike. If that number continues to grow, one species will devour the other and the landscape will be forever scarred. Both sides need to be culled, and the Balance needs to be preserved. Esteban is helping you create more wretches, and the wretches are cutting a bloody swath through the humans. When that is over, the wretches will tip the scales through sheer numbers. Esteban thinks he can control them, but I know you are the one waiting for your moment to show it is your hand at the reins.”

“If you know so much, you should have left me in Lancroft’s pit.”

Randolph had taken a form that was bristling with raw, elemental might. Saliva flowed off of fangs the size of a man’s fingers, only to freeze in the thick fur that hung from his chin. “The noise that fills this modern world has become deafening. In order to silence it, the Full Bloods needed first to be heard above the commotion. Liam knew this, but all he wanted was to rage against them all. The Skinners were a larger obstacle than any of our kind ever realized, but it was the leeches that suppressed them long enough for us to mobilize like never before. The Breaking Moon rose and you were free to make the best of it. But I have read the legends. I know that you are the First Deceiver. The first Full Blood. While your lies may not sink as deeply into our minds, your influence burrows like a worm that sinks further and further in the longer you infect our kind with your presence. That is why I spent most of the Breaking Moon far away from this place.

“I know the Skinners better than anyone. I have learned all there is to know about my brethren. I even knew where to find you when the time came. All I need is a source of the Torva’ox that is stronger than what now flows through even your veins. When I have that, there will be a culling that will silence the yapping population of human and shapeshifter alike.”

“And you believe Icanchu will help you do this?” Kawosa asked. “You are a fool.”

“I did not start this bloodshed, but I offer you a chance to be one of the survivors after I finish it.”

“I’ll take my chances on my own. Gambling with Death offers better odds than siding with an angry pup like you.”

“And I’m through with taking chances. Since you won’t give me what I need, I’ll take it from you.” Randolph lunged. He dropped to all fours and barely allowed his front paws to touch the ground before springing forward and baring almost every fang in his mouth with a wide, vicious snarl.

Kawosa planted his paws in the snow, bobbing his head down and to the side before rolling away as the Full Blood’s jaws clamped shut above him. He might have avoided getting his head snipped off, but a good portion of his fur along with a patch of flesh on the back of his neck were sheared away.

Twisting his head to take another snap at Kawosa, Randolph clamped down on empty air. When he opened his mouth again, he spat out the little piece of Kawosa he’d claimed as if the furry patch of flesh had put a foul taste in his mouth. Then he kicked up a frozen white wave as he scrambled to turn back around and face his opponent. Kawosa was there waiting for him.

The trickster wore a weary smile. His black eyes shifted to a cloudy green and then became perfect crystalline orbs similar to a Full Blood’s. Randolph tensed for an attack, and when he’d committed himself to a defense, Kawosa attacked a spot that was left open. Compared to the Full Blood’s claws, Kawosa’s were like curved, bony needles. They didn’t have enough brute force to peel a car down to the frame, but they punctured Randolph’s flesh with every swipe.

Knowing it was only a matter of seconds before his flesh was stripped to the bone, Randolph stood up and tried to grab hold of the other shapeshifter. When he got a hold on him, Kawosa bit his hand and shook his head until narrow, pointed fangs met inside the Full Blood’s wrist. Howling wildly, Randolph tore Kawosa from his back. The pain from the bite was more than enough to wash away the agony of ripping those claws from where they’d been lodged.

Kawosa landed on all fours, and as soon as his paws were under him, put some distance between himself and Randolph. Once that was done, he circled around and leapt at him.

Having already gotten a taste of Kawosa’s speed, Randolph didn’t try to dodge the incoming attack. He shifted his muscles into thick bands and planted his feet in preparation for catching the wily shapeshifter. Somehow, Kawosa pivoted in midair so his claws could swipe at him from unexpected angles. The instant Randolph grabbed his midsection, Kawosa slashed at Randolph’s face. The Full Blood craned his neck to avoid the deadly weapons, howling as one claw snagged the corner of an eye. It was only a matter of determination mixed with a bit of luck that he wasn’t blinded. Realizing this, he flung Kawosa into the air, shifted into his four-legged form and broke into a loping run. Not once did he take his eyes from Kawosa as the shapeshifter turned and kicked through empty space. All he needed to do was keep his prey in sight while gauging where Kawosa would land.

And then the trickster disappeared like a mirage that had been made of cloud vapor and drifting smoke.

Randolph slowed his steps while searching the blue Canadian sky. There was nothing to mask the sight of an airborne shapeshifter. In the distance he heard the impact of something landing in the snow, followed by the scraping of claws against hard, frozen earth. Panting with renewed vigor, Randolph raced in that direction.

“You know nothing of what I can do,” Kawosa said while pacing less than fifty yards in front of the Full Blood.

Randolph rushed at him, eyes narrowing to keep out as much of the icy wind as possible. When Kawosa sprang from his hind legs, Randolph jumped to meet him at the top of an arch formed by their two trajectories. Instead of colliding the way two physical bodies should, however, Randolph slashed apart the vision of Kawosa that faded without so much as a hint of anything solid that had been there. Before Randolph could touch the ground again, something slammed against his ribs. It was Kawosa, clinging to him, biting and clawing in a frenzy of sharp edges and insatiable hunger. Peeling him off and casting him away this time was even more painful for Randolph than the last.

“I’ll give you one chance to think, pup,” Kawosa said upon landing. “Think about what you’re doing and maybe you’ll come to your senses.”

But Randolph wasn’t going to be swayed. Although there were no energies trying to assert themselves on his mind, he recognized the feral gleam in the shapeshifter’s pale gold eyes. There was too much blood dripping from his tapered snout, too much torn flesh dangling from between his teeth, for him to simply give up now. Any werewolf knew the hunger that came after tasting the tender perfection of freshly shredded meat. Rather than put his insight to the test, Randolph allowed his muscles to relax and his head to hang to one side as if he was truly considering the offer.

Sure enough, Kawosa charged. Although the trickster was the one snapping at the bait dangling in front of him, he didn’t go about it recklessly. He covered the small patch of ground between them in a series of darting steps, each one sending him forward at a slightly different angle than the last. Even his head sent mixed signals as it bobbed in the wrong way from the rest of his body. Rather than try to compensate for all of those factors, Randolph stood up and swept both arms out. If another creature had been standing directly in front of him, it would have been ripped in half by both sets of claws that raked out in opposite directions to cover as much area as possible.

The swings were wild enough to clip Kawosa in several places. Having underestimated his quarry, Kawosa now found himself in the midst of an onslaught akin to several sets of propeller blades converging on him at once. He snapped at Randolph’s legs and brought the Full Blood down. He then kicked his lower body to an awkward angle so another powerful swing could pass him by, and scrambled away.

Like any predator, Randolph’s killer instinct swelled at the sight of his prey trying to flee. His howl was a terrible sound that sent smaller animals fleeing for miles in every direction. After all that had happened, even the humans in nearby towns knew to shut their doors and seek shelter instead of poking their noses out to investigate the unearthly riot.

Kawosa kept his steps swift and glanced over one shoulder to find the other shapeshifter bearing down on him. Shifting into a lean, scraggly canine built for running, he bolted toward the north. But Randolph knew better than to chase after him right away. Instead, he slowed down and strained for his other senses to detect any hint as to something else that might be moving around him.

Kawosa didn’t exactly disappear from where he’d been, but he did show up in a spot that Randolph hadn’t been expecting. When Randolph tried to follow his prey, he found himself simply looking in the wrong direction. Now that the trickster had built up a head of steam, he had enough speed to put a simple ruse like that to good use. Keeping that in mind, Randolph charged over snowdrifts, leapt over fallen logs, and stormed through forests. Kawosa’s ruse bought him enough time to veer away to the south, but the Full Blood surged onward with enough force to catch up to him. Randolph’s claws snagged the trickster’s tail, but Kawosa ripped himself loose at the expense of his own body and ran away again.

After tossing aside the tail he’d ripped from Kawosa’s body, the pursuit began in earnest.