“Why? Was the ship carrying some kind of weapon or dangerous substance?” Sylvan asked, frowning.
Rarev blew out a breath.
“You could say that, I suppose. It was carrying a prisoner—a Tigris warrior who is stuck in a state of Fury. He was bound for Tiberius Four, the Maximum-security Prison planet on the far side of the galaxy.”
“Fury?” Sylvan frowned. “What does that mean?”
“It’s a bit like a prolonged state of Rage.” Rarev sat forward, gesturing with one velvet-furred hand. “It happens when a Monstrum warrior witnesses or undergoes a traumatic event and cannot get past it. Such warriors are incredibly dangerous, because they perceive everyone they meet as a threat. They revert almost to an animal state and cannot be reasoned with—I’m sure you can imagine how lethal they can be.”
Sylvan felt a cold chill go down his spine.
“Are you telling me that a warrior who has all the strength of a Kindred and the fangs and claws and bloodlust of a predatory big cat is loose down on Earth? Right now, at this moment?” he demanded.
“I am afraid so,” Rarev said seriously. “I told you it was grave news,” he added. “It’s possible the prisoner was killed in the crash—we need to check the site out, but we wanted some of your warriors with us when we do. It’s my understanding that the part of the Earth where the ship went down is rather, ah, rural. And from what I have heard, the residents there often discharge their weapons first and ask questions afterwards.”
“And you’re thinking if they see a bunch of Monstrum warriors prowling around their mountains, they’re going to start shooting right away.” Sylvan nodded grimly. “You’re probably not wrong.”
“We don’t want any trouble,” Rarev said, spreading his hands in a gesture of peace. “My mating with Emilia has greatly defused the situation between the humans and my people—I have no wish to reignite the fire of the humans’ hatred towards the Monstrum.”
“I have no wish for that either,” Sylvan told him. “I’ll assemble a team to go with your warriors at once. What should we be looking for? Will the prisoner respond to his name if we call him?”
Rarev shook his head.
“His name is ‘Roarn,’ but no, I doubt he’ll understand anything that’s said to him. He’s stuck in the condition we call ‘Beast-mind’—which is what happens during a prolonged state of Fury.”
“Can’t anything bring him out of it?” Sylvan asked, frowning.
Rarev shook his head again, regretfully.
“Everything has been tried. He’s been stuck in Fury for the past five cycles, ever since he witnessed his brother die in battle with the Darklings. I’m afraid the only thing that could bring him out of Fury and reverse the Beast-mind would be his mate—if he had one.”
“Ah, I see.” Sylvan nodded. One of the reasons the Goddess had sent the Monstrum to their universe in the first place was because they had no females left in their own universe to call as mates.
“If he was mated, his mate could have brought him around,” Rarev said. “But since we had no females left to mate with until we came to your ‘verse, there is no one who can call him back to rational thought and behavior. It’s one reason we were shipping him to the prison planet—he’s simply too dangerous to keep aboard the Monstrum Mother Ship anymore. He attacks everyone who comes near him—several of the warriors guarding him were nearly killed.”
“And now he’s loose down on Earth.” Sylvan pinched the bridge of his nose, trying to drive back the headache that threatened. “Goddess help us all.”
“As I said, the crash might have killed him. Sadly, it did kill the pilot.” Rarev shook his head sadly. “We lost his life signs the moment the ship made impact. But either way, we need to be sure.”
“We’ll find out,” Sylvan promised him. “Come on—we need to assemble a team and get down there before this Monstrum does any damage or runs across a helpless human.”
Little did he know, it was already too late…
TWO
Christine Conway sighed as she trudged the quarter mile from the foot of her driveway to the small log cabin her Great Uncle had left her. It wasn’t that much of a walk in the Spring or Summer and during the Autumn when all the trees were changing it was beautiful—but then, she didn’t have to walk it then. It was only during the Winter, when the snow piled up and even her rugged little Camry couldn’t make it up the rutted dirt road that she had to walk.
“Getting too damn old for this,” Christine muttered to herself as she trudged uphill through the knee-high snow to the cabin. Maybe it was time to move back into town like her kids keep nagging her to. Not that Stuarts Draft, Virginia was much of a town. It was more like a wide place in the road, but there were a few nice little neighborhoods with straight walks that were easy to shovel and all of them were under ten minutes’ drive to Whiskers and Tails, the veterinary practice where she worked as a vet tech.