Raging Wolf: A MC Werewolf Romance

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Raging Wolf: A MC Werewolf Romance Page 12

by Felicity Jordan


  “Bait…” Susan sighed, scratching the back of her head. “How long do they have to chase me for?”

  “Thirty-five, maybe forty seconds,” Helena replied, her voice steady. “Susan, I promise you, I won’t let them lay a finger you. Just lead them to me and I’ll do the rest.”

  “I’ll do it,” Susan gave an emphatic nod. “I wouldn’t hang you out to dry.”

  “Yes!” Helena clapped her hands in excitement. “Thank you. Thank you so much.”

  “Gutsy,” Michael commented, flashing her a glance of admiration. “Just a couple of things, though,” he went on, looking down at Helena. “One: ‘Purple Rock’ is four hundred yards from the foot of the hill, and it’s pretty packed on weekends. The bloodsuckers’ ultimatum expires at eleven. We can’t do what you’re suggesting so late. Two: You’ll have to be very careful with the use of fire. Remember, Shandaken is very close.”

  “Yes, you’re making good points,” Helena agreed. “We should do this at about eight. The bar doesn’t open until nine. And don’t worry, I’m not going to burn down the forest.”

  “That’s good to know,” Michael smiled. “We’ll be on the hillside across the street, waiting for your signal. Excuse me; I have to go tell everybody.”

  “Um, hi,” Ray peeked his head through the open door. “Can I talk to you about something?”

  “I was just about to come to you,” Michael stated, sauntering across his living room. “What is it?”

  “The bank thing.” Ray whispered. “What are we going to do about it? Is it on or off?”

  “What bank thing?” Helena interjected, walking closer to Michael.

  “Damn…” He huffed in frustration. “You could have waited until I was outside.”

  “Can someone explain to me? Please?” Helena requested, intensity creeping into her voice.

  “I’d totally forgotten about that,” Michael confessed to Ray, gripping the door handle. “We’re going to battle tomorrow, and that’s what you’re worried about? Tell everyone it’s off for now. I can’t think about it until the bloodsucker thing is over.”

  He slammed the door shut, not allowing his friend a chance to argue.

  “We were planning on robbing a bank in North Haven,” he claimed, his hands on his waist. “Bruce had found some hacker to disable the security system, but now he’s gone, and none of us know who that hacker is.”

  “You guys rob banks?” Helena squinted up at him, not appreciating at all the new information. “Why would you do that?”

  “Because we were not lucky enough to be born in riches, that’s why,” Michael groaned, his face hardening. “FYI, we were going to use that money to branch out into car repair. No bank would lend us the millions we needed. Now, excuse me.”

  Helena had regretted her reaction before he even uttered his last sentence. Her boyfriend and his pack were struggling to make ends meet, and she had more money than she could spend.

  “He robs banks for the fun of it,” Susan spoke after he had exited his cabin, her gaze locked on the axe in the corner. “He’s like: ‘I chop down trees and bang hammers every day, why not rob a bank and see what it’s like’?”

  “Okay, I deserved that,” Helena admitted with a hesitant smile.

  “If you people weren’t in the middle of something so important, I’d be thrilled.” Susan continued, gazing out the window. “Michael’s got very interesting friends.”

  “Stop using that word,” Helena chuckled. “Say it. Ray’s good-looking.”

  “All right, he is,” Susan giggled. “He’s a fine specimen, too. I just hope we both survive tomorrow.”

  “We will,” Helena nodded in confidence, hugging her. “I’m sure we will.”

  She was still in her friend’s embrace, when she recalled her ancestor’s words about faith. A few weeks ago, it didn’t mean anything to her. She didn’t mind living without it, because witchcraft was just a game to her. Now however, it was anything but a game. Helena would have to utilize her skills, in order to survive a faceoff with creatures who had no compunction to slaughter every man, woman and child in the Catskills. To do so, that faith had to be her primary weapon…

  Chapter Twenty-Two

  Helena

  The unease that had descended upon the town of Mercer evolved to fear that Saturday. Helena, Michael and Susan spent most of it in his cabin, discussing her plan. Still, every now and again, their conversations were cut short by the screams of his neighbors. And every time they were interrupted was a reminder of how crucial that day was for them. The shifters were on the verge of extermination. In a matter of hours, they would know if they could continue to live in that scenic little town or plunge into oblivion.

  Certainly, the added stress wasn’t helpful. She was already well-aware of the task at hand. She had no need for reminders or cries of terror. Moreover, her life would be affected by this as well. Helena could not—and would not—return to her father’s mansion, regardless of the outcome of that battle. For the time being, she could live with Michael. However, if they lost, she would face a huge problem. The mountain would become a painful memory. She would have to leave it in a hurry, but she couldn’t go back to her apartment in New York. Her father used to pay for that. In essence, the daughter of a billionaire would be homeless. Without a home, without parents, without her savior, Helena would have to find the strength to stand alone in this world.

  The situation got even worse when night fell. Dozens of residents shifted in the streets and began to fight against each other, as if the vampire threat wasn’t enough. Frustrated by their behavior, Helena couldn’t believe her eyes. She watched Michael and Ray trying to split them up, wishing that she could do more to help them. Yet, this was something she could not be involved in. Despite her relationship with their Alpha, this was his business. She was sure he wouldn’t like this but that was not the only reason why she chose to keep out. Should she step in, his people would construe this as a sign of weakness. Shifters don’t tend to follow weak Alphas. On the contrary, they tend to challenge their authority or even try to kill them.

  Prior to their departure, she put on her red cloak, hoping in her heart that she would get to wear it again. After leaving Michael’s cabin, she realized that he hadn’t been able to avoid the same tension that plagued his kind. The flamboyant biker didn’t want to use his motorcycle to get to the workshop. Instead, he wanted to walk. It was as if—some part of him at least—didn’t believe that he would ever lay eyes on his homeland again. Although Helena considered complaining at first, she kept her mouth shut. Lecturing him would lead to an argument, and an argument would distract him. They needed to stick together in this hour, not bicker.

  Still a block away from their destination, she could hear the shifters quarreling yet again. And when they entered the neighborhood, the sight of fifty or so individuals outside the workshop confirmed her fear. Michael jogged past her, mumbling gibberish. Before reaching them, his fellow bikers got out of the building and stood in front of the small crowd, facing him.

  “How many?” Michael asked Ray, closing the gap between them.

  “Fifty-seven,” he answered as Helena drew near. “About a hundred have left town. The rest of them are in their homes, too scared to join in.”

  “Why are they arguing?” Michael posed another question in sinking disappointment.

  “Take your pick,” Ray groaned. “Some say they’re too few, some don’t agree with the plan, some think we should bring humans into this… It’s just insane.”

  “Hey!” Michael shouted, lifting a hand to silence his people. In an instant, all chattering ceased, and everyone turned their attention to him. “Thanks,” he croaked, glancing out over the crowd. “You all know me. I’m not Bruce. I don’t have his experience. I don’t have his wisdom, either. Tonight though, we need heart. Because it’s not just the human towns that are in danger. It’s our homeland, too. The place we grew up in. Our brothers. Our sisters. Our children.

  Some of you ar
e scared. I get it. We’ve never fought against vampires before. They’re not easy to kill. They’re strong, fast, but we have a couple of things they don’t, a couple of things they’ll never have. One? We want to live. Bloodsuckers are not even alive. They’re caught somewhere in the in between. Two? We value life. They don’t. To them, living things are just food. So, let’s go show them who reigns over this valley. Let’s go show them what shifters are really made of.”

  A loud, rumbling cry thundered across the road, bringing a look of satisfaction to Michael’s face. A simple nod initiated the process they had been waiting for. Machine gun-like sounds rippled through the atmosphere as the wolves assumed command. Within seconds, all human skins were shed, with Susan watching in sheer astonishment. Michael’s gray beast tossed his head back, shutting his eyes. His majestic howl echoed throughout the valley, acting like a call to arms. He swirled around and burst off up the road, his own kind following him in on the most vital trip of their lives. The massive wolves tore past Helena and Susan, their paws picking up dust and gravel from the ground.

  “Almost five feet. At the shoulder,” Susan remarked, staring into the void.

  “Let’s go,” Helena suggested, taking her friend by the hand. Visualizing the tree-lined road outside Shandaken, she closed her eyes. Once again, she stopped feeling solid ground beneath her for an instant. The stampede of the wolves was replaced by the sound of a dog’s bark in the distance. Once she sensed the crisp wind on the skin of her face, the young witch opened her eyes to slits. The pale light of the lampposts further up the street and the mixed scent of trees indicated her new surroundings.

  “We’re here,” she announced, gazing at the empty road out of Shandaken.

  “Very well,” Susan praised. “When did you start teleporting like this?”

  “Three days ago,” Helena murmured, clutching her friend’s hand tighter as she walked up the hillside. “Right before dear old daddy killed Michael’s Alpha.”

  “Why am I not surprised?” Susan wondered, thick vegetation spreading out in front of them. “Your father just loves to hate shifters. Any idea why?”

  “The last time we talked, my mother referred to them as ‘animals,’” Helena responded, bumping her leg into a long, thin piece of wood. “My guess is she shares his viewpoint,” she added, bending down to pick it up. A red glow engulfed it as she raised it up over her head. Using her willpower, she managed to smooth any rough edges and engrave her initials into its top end. It was a perfect staff to help her focus her powers.

  “Somebody’s been studying hard these days,” Susan complimented. “That’s a first.”

  “I have, but not what you think,” Helena declared, scanning the area in search of a proper tree. “I’ve been studying spells, but I didn’t use a spell to turn this stick into a staff. I just…” She paused. “Focused.”

  “It’s still very impressive to see you doing things like that,” Susan complimented again while they strutted across the forest, beams of moonlight shining down through the trees.

  “What you’re about to do is a lot more admirable than me using witchcraft.” Helena argued, stopping next to a massive, cedar tree. “That gap over there exits to a clearing. All you have to do is stand there. Don’t speak, don’t make a sound. They’ll come to you.” Finishing her phrase, she wrapped her arms around her, wishing she could trade places with her. “Whatever happens tonight, you’re my hero.”

  “Please…” Susan let off a short giggle. “Spare me the flattery. I’m honored to help.”

  “It’s time,” Helena whispered, leaning back. “Go. Good luck.”

  Susan flashed her friend a bright-eyed look and then continued onwards. Helena looked up at the tree, her heartbeat escalating. Moisture was glistening on the needles. Locating its highest branch, she pictured herself on it. The next thing she knew, leaves were brushing her cheeks, the distinctive scent of cedar overwhelming her nostrils. Peeking through the leaves, she was amazed to discover her friend’s relaxed posture. Had she not asked her to lure the vampires out of their lair, she would be fooled into thinking that she was actually taking a stroll in the woods.

  Disappointment unfurled in her chest as the inevitable happened. Susan passed beyond her sight, tree trunks blocking her from view. She could only hear the faint sound of leaves crushing underneath her feet. In minutes however, that disappointment gave way to sheer determination. Helena recognized her friend’s laughter, before hearing Susan’s frantic footsteps. She wrapped her fingers around both ends of her staff and pointed it down to the ground. Feral snarls and hisses ripped through the silence, sending waves of rage coursing through her. Susan emerged from the trunks, hurtling in the direction from which she and Helena had come, looking back at her aspiring killers. Moments later, more than a dozen pair of eyes glowed pale-yellow in the dark as they sprinted towards her. Growls grew in ferocity and number alike, more vampires storming out into the woods. Despite her long, fast strides, the vampires’ quick bursts of speed brought them closer and closer to Susan. Helena counted a total of twenty pairs of eyes chasing after her, nearing the tree she was on.

  “Gods of doom – Forge the path

  Send the cold ones to my wrath

  Frozen kings – Hear my desire

  Trap them all in a ring of fire”

  A dark-red beam shot down the bottom end of her staff at the end of the incantation. The light flew across the forest, singeing leaves, twigs and branches in its wake. Brush and chunks of undergrowth were thrown across the forest floor, the moment it landed behind the legs of the straggler. With a firm grip on her staff, Helena started to draw a line of fire, parallel to her enemies. Bright flames exposed their faces as they gained height. The leading vampire looked up at her, the fire passing him by. Helena dismissed him with a smile of irony, turning her staff left. One by one, Weathers’s minions sped to the left, away from danger while she prepared her trap.

  The witch turned around, eager to complete her masterpiece. By then, the vampires were yards away from harm, hurtling towards the tree she was in. Letting out an angry grunt, she completed the circle. Helena snapped her fingers, the firey noose burning more leaves and wood in its path. Finding herself just inches out of her masterpiece, she caught a glimpse of Susan, running towards her.

  “Jump!” She cried out, staring at her with wide eyes. Susan lunged through the flames, the vampire leading the lot tossing a nasty glare over at Helena. Holding her staff out in front of her, she tapped her fingers on its front end and sucked in the deepest breath possible. She tipped her head down, a small ball of fire springing from the tip. A strong puff instantly turned it into a massive blaze, roaring as it shot towards her trap. Trees bent in the wind as the inferno engulfed the bodies of her enemies. Every single vampire who had made the mistake of chasing after Susan was scorched, their ashes flying up in the air.

  Helena pulled her friend up from the ground, swelling with pride. Still, this was no time to celebrate anything. Their struggle was not yet over. The rumble of the wolves behind her swept into her ears, reminding her that there was still much to do.

  “Go! Get out of here!” She urged Susan, adrenaline pouring through her system, the embers of the fire dying out. Her friend took her advice. Susan nodded to her and started off into the darkness. Helena stormed forward, fury blasting through her veins. Chugging out cold air, the fledgling witch stepped into the patch of scorched earth. The ashes of her enemies were still hovering above the ground. Images of Mercer and Michael popped into her mind. In particular, she focused on the one that changed everything between them: Their kiss in the rain.

  “We’ll kiss again in the rain, Michael. That’s a promise.”

  The ground vibrating beneath her feet, Helena rushed out of the blackened earth and turned her head around. She knew who was behind her, but she looked regardless. Michael’s gray beast was leading the charge, his fur glimmering silver in the moonlight, Ray’s wolf on his left flank. Huge paws picked up mud and ashes as t
hey loped across the forest. Lengthening his strides, a deep snarl escaped the Alpha. His growl grew in volume as she saw him on her right, out of the corner of her eye. He gave her a happy yip, and then jumped over a thorny bush which blocked his path. Michael left her trailing behind him, leaving her amidst his comrades.

  The pack stormed out into the clearing, snarls and growls shattering the stillness of the night. Dozens of yellow pairs of eyes filled Helena’s gaze when she joined the wolves. Just beyond their foes, she recognized the familiar figure of her father, standing alongside the Alpha vampire. Dominic Weathers towered over the six-foot tall warlock, the calmness in his face baffling her. Still, Helena didn’t have the luxury to wonder why he looked so peaceful.

  Bodies of wolves and vampires smashed into one another, like a train crashing into a car. Locking her gaze with Dominic, she visualized ending him in the same way she had eradicated his minions. Fire sprang from her palm and floated above it, her face contorting with rage. Grabbing the stick with both hands, she watched the flames spread around it, licking the wood, her father taking a step forward.

  “You shouldn’t have come here,” Frank reprimanded, pulling his own staff out of his cloak. “You’ll rule these lands with Weathers’s clan once the shifters are gone.”

  “Wrong,” Dominic interjected, an evil smile forming on his face. In a swift move, he reached out, grabbed the back of Frank’s head and yanked him back. He bent towards him, his gaze still on Helena. Her father yelped in agony as the vampire sank his teeth into the flesh of his neck. Blood gushed from the wound, soaking the collar of her father’s garment. “I don’t share power.”

  Watching her father’s suffering, Helena’s heart sank. His eyes had shot wide open, his lips shaking, his staff slipping from his grasp. Dominic shoved him to the left, Frank’s body dropping to the ground as if he had no strength left in his muscles.

 

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