by Joey W. Hill
We are both wolf and human, vampire. Is it unusual we have bonds with those who are all one or the other?
No, come to think of it. But it was pretty damn cool. Cai nodded in the general direction of the wolves. "They're here to make sure this stays between you and me. If Brutus, Malvin and Hector want to be up to their armpits in pissed-off wolves, all they have to do is help you in any way. Though if that happens, I'll be disappointed. You make yourself out to be such a badass, it's going to be surprising if you scream like a little bitch for their help. But on the plus side, it'll be extremely gratifying to me if you do."
Goddard was measuring him and the wolves, his brain doing a lot of calculations, Cai was sure. Cai didn't see Rand, and expected he and a couple of the other wolves were circling to the back as he'd suggested. Fane had taken lead position for the pack. He looked damn intimidating, glittering eyes leveled on the vampires, teeth bared, a low growl rumbling from his throat and matched by that of all the other wolves and shifters. Good as the beating of drums and yelling by an invading army.
Goddard was holding the same frozen, I-will-kill-you all expression, but his boys were looking a little nervous.
Cai dropped to his heels, tenting his fingers on the ground, his gaze leveling on Goddard. Yeah, this was about a distraction, on the surface, but as things narrowed down to this moment, another part of him opened up. Cai wasn't leaving this field until Goddard was dead. Every inch of his hated face stomped into the ground, every finger broken that had ever taken from Cai's flesh. His tongue ripped out to destroy any more words he could say to rip apart a soul.
Cai wanted him dead, and he wanted to personally be the one who sent him to hell. He didn't care that Goddard was faster and stronger, that a two-hundred-year-old vampire was no match for a four-hundred-year-old one. Cai had enough hate built up in him to balance the scales. He was fucking sure of it.
Goddard opened his mouth to say something more, but Cai was done with dramatic monologues. He surged up from the ground and went for the stakes, moving at a speed only vampires and astronauts knew was possible.
Cai's idea might buy them time, but it didn't make Rand feel any better about it. The vampire was risking a hell of a lot on factors that might or might not pan out. But when the cache of pent-up pissed-off broke loose inside Cai, Rand recognized that rage.
When hurt beyond what you could bear, and something broke and had to be remade from what was left over, it would never be as good or whole as what had been before. That spawned a festering anger that got buried so deep, a soul often didn't realize how strong it was, until a moment like this one happened. Then it took over like the wrath of a god.
Rand could hear the wolves moving, circling, feinting an occasionally snap at the other vampires to keep them mindful of the threat if they interfered with the fight. He wasn't going to get a better shot at Dovia.
He had Stalker and Windrunner with him. The teenage girl was devoted to her older brother, and had refused to be left behind, even when Fane brought all his pack authority to bear on her, mandating she and Darcy would remain at home with Lynn and Sangra.
Windrunner had insisted she would follow them, if they left her behind. Rand was sure Fane's children didn't often defy him, but Windrunner, even cowed down to a submissive position from her father's anger, had a look that said she wasn't letting Stalker go without her.
She was a wolf, but she was also a teenager. After a long look between Fane and Lynn, Fane had allowed it, if she promised to stay at the back and out of any direct confrontation. It was part of why Rand chose her to accompany him now.
When they found the rotted wood, he and Stalker shifted to human, using feet to kick and break it, and those helpful opposable thumbs to pull it loose. Windrunner stayed wolf, but pitched in with some enthusiastic digging. Thanks to her smaller size, she was able to fit through the opening pretty quickly. Kid had a lot of guts.
The wind direction kept them apprised of the vampires, but Stalker shifted back to wolf and went to the corner to keep a visual on the three. As Cai had predicted, all the vampires seemed to be caught up watching the fight, but Stalker's tense body posture suggested things weren't going well.
Rand didn't dwell on what would happen if Cai were killed, if he would feel whatever mortal wound Cai took the same way, or if he would simply drop. All that mattered was Dovia.
He heard Windrunner's whine, and she was there again, nosing and nudging Dovia. The girl's eyes were wide in her delicate face, but at the sight of Rand, she reached through the opening without hesitation so he could pull her out. Windrunner squirmed out behind her. Dovia was still naked, since they'd only provided her a "blanket" for her comfort, but they'd figure that out. In his earlier exploration of the cabin, Rand had found no clothes for her. Bastards.
Cai, got her.
He wasn't expecting a response, so he jumped when the emphatic reply blasted through him like a shout. The staccato-fast syllables told him Cai was fighting for his life.
Get her to Daegan. Run. Gum.
Shit, he had almost forgotten. Windrunner pressed up next to him and he felt for the slim collar Lynn had fashioned for her daughter to wear, buried in her ruff. They'd fixed the small container of gum to it. He pulled it off, opened the tin and dumped the handful of gumballs into it, no bigger than peas. "Chew this now," he told Dovia. "It erases any blood tracer they put on you."
She was lucid enough to obey immediately. He turned to Stalker. Thank God male shifters were bigger than even the largest breed of wolves, and Dovia was a petite thing. He put her on Stalker's back, closing her hands on his ruff. "Just hold on tight with your knees and hands," he told her. "Can you do that? Are you strong enough?"
She nodded. He squeezed her hand and met Stalker's gaze. "Head southwest. Daegan's coming for her from that direction. He can't be far now, and he won't be difficult to scent. He's very, very old. He carries sword, a lot of weapons, he and his servant. Find a safe place to hole up until we come for you. Don't take her to your home or anywhere they could track her by other means and cause harm to your family."
Dovia reached out and clung to his arm. "You have to come, too."
"He and Windrunner will take good care of you," Rand said firmly, putting her hand on Stalker again. "I have to stay. Cai is here." He hesitated at Stalker's look, but then he said it, because he couldn't not say it. "I'm his servant. I won't leave him."
Understanding crossed her face. That was good, because he wasn't sure he understood it himself. He just knew it was true. "Pull a couple of the others as a rear guard, in case," he told Stalker. "Don't let their absence be noticed. Go."
Stalker nodded and bounded off, Dovia clinging to him, Windrunner on his heels. A couple yips to signal, and Rand knew that another pair would be joining them from those surrounding the clearing. He shifted again, fast, and used the cover of the forest to return to the camp outskirts. He stayed screened by foliage so a sudden appearance by a wolf familiar to the vampires wouldn't be noted. Or, more importantly, make them question why he'd been absent until now.
It was all he could do to keep position, though, when he saw what was happening.
Cai was losing.
Hell, the vampire was giving it all he had. It wasn't enough. And yet...
Maybe someone not blood-bound to the vampire couldn't pick it up, because Rand didn't see any reaction to it from the watching vampires or shifters. But energy was starting to build, an energy with one magnetic hub.
Amid that fierce, determined storm inside Cai, a weapon was shaping itself. Something Goddard wouldn't expect to be facing; something Cai himself might not realize was just waiting to be called. Sooner would be better than later. A shiver went through Rand, a need to jump into the fray, do something to alert the vampire, remind him of it...but any distraction could prove fatal.
It was a wonder, to be so closely linked to the male's mind, feel all those emotions, the waves of violence, fight strategy made and remade in split second decisions. Cai
was using every scrap of energy, including any emotional defenses, to fight Goddard.
Rand hated watching him fight without helping, but at least he could hold that line, that connection. Some intuitive--or foolish--part of him thought it helped, closing his mental fist around that rope, keeping it steady. Unbroken.
While that wave of energy kept building like a tsunami.
Now the wolves felt it. Some of the ones closest to him shifted uneasily, ears twitching and eyes flashing. Rand's lips curled back from his fangs. This was about to get ugly.
But hopefully in the right way.
Cai snarled as Goddard put him down on the ground once more, with a blow like an anvil slamming into his torso. He even folded over it, like the proverbial cartoon character. When Goddard fell upon him, trying to drive the stake he clasped into Cai's chest, he rolled with a flash of desperate speed.
The older male had thought he'd play with Cai, emphasize his superiority, but he was finding it was a hell of a job to spear a cockroach with a toothpick. Especially if the cockroach had had about a hundred years to study every fight tactic and cue his opponent had. Cai couldn't match him in strength or speed, but he could out fucking think him. Which would work until Cai got too tired to think.
He was up again, holding his side. Hell, that was probably a cracked rib. Hopefully the next blow wouldn't shatter it and puncture his lung. Some levels of pain were too damn distracting. Blood ran into his left eye and he knuckled it away before dodging another lunge. Time for some offense.
He charged and hit Goddard full body, rolling them over and over in the dirt, squirming and punching, trying to avoid being caught in a lock with the stronger male. He'd prefer not to have his head ripped off the way Cai had done to Goddard's minion all those decades ago. He rather his own karma have some variety, some note of surprise.
His knuckles rapped a rock half buried into the dirt. Ripping it free, he hammered it into Goddard's face, driving the vampire back, making him scramble away.
They were back on their feet, facing one another, both getting tired. He noticed the other three vampires had edged closer. But the wolves had noticed, too, and had closed their own circle. Cai didn't want any of the wolves hurt. This wasn't their fight. They were here for Rand, who was...what the hell?
His wolf was supposed to be gone, carrying Dovia as far from danger as possible. Instead, he'd taken the lead position from Fane. He looked like the tip of a lethal spear, jaw snapping, his growling like the thunder of a fast approaching storm. His eyes were glowing with that hellfire light. His one gold and one blue eye. They hadn't gone full gold because Rand, human and wolf side, were channeling all that fury equally.
Cai had thought Fane looked intimidating, but that was until Rand had stepped into those paws. If Goddard made any more forward progress on harpooning Cai, the wolf was going to leap into the fight.
They'd put effort into covering Rand's strengths to help Dovia, but now, the way Rand looked, like he could hold his own with Lucifer's own hellhounds, was enough to have Goddard giving the wolf a second, uncertain glance.
You're not touching my wolf. Cai leaped for Goddard, grappling, striking him in the ribs with his one empty fist. Hell, holding onto the stake was just hampering him. Cai tossed it away and went after him with both hands. He'd plow through Gideon's rib cage like match sticks, but unfortunately a vampire's bone structure was a bit more resistant, especially if the vampire in question could twist away fast as a snake. Goddard flipped over and brought the heel of his boot down on Cai's stomach. If he'd had anything in there, it would have come up. He swallowed back a grunt of pain.
He knew how to do that, didn't he? Not make a sound, no matter his agony?
His first year as a vampire, Goddard had broken both his legs, hog-tied him in that position for hours. "Every time you make a noise of pain, you'll stay that way another hour."
It had been Goddard's punishment for Cai not moving fast enough, thinking fast enough, not being what he wanted, or being exactly what he wanted. His fucktoy, punching bag, and receptacle for Goddard's insatiable need to cause pain.
It was an ill-timed flashback...or maybe not.
Enough. Fucking enough.
The energy was there. Had been there since the start of the fight. He could use it. Should have used it at the beginning, because now, fueled by this level of rage, Cai wasn't sure how to stop it. It was an encounter between an oil spill and a bonfire.
He hurt, he was tired of all this bullshit. Yeah, he could just die, but Rand would die, too. And Rand hadn't figured out that life still had some pretty good stuff for him. Probably not for Cai, seeing as he was such an annoying prick, but he could ride his coattails. Or his ass. It was a damn fine ass. And it was bound to him for all eternity. That meant he had to take care of it. Lyssa had said so.
Fuck it. Move them back, Rand. Move them back.
Just like when he helped life take root inside of Dovia, Cai shut everything out, focused on his breathing, let the energy inside him grow. A force of creation could also be a force for destruction, couldn't it?
Goddard charged. This time, when he was nearly upon him, Cai thrust out both fists, a battering ram move. And he put all that energy of creation--and destruction--into it.
It was like watching a fireworks display explode at ground level. Leastwise, that's what Rand would tell him later. His fists went through Goddard's chest and came out the other side, blood and bone blurred by a shower of green and gold energy, a blaze of firelight that roared up and over, consuming them both. Cai felt the heat run up his arms, across his back. Him and Goddard, a pyre that would blaze to the gates of hell, leaving a trail of ash, and--
He was jerked back by human hands, a move that made all the things hurting in his body hurt worse. He cursed whoever the rude bastard was who'd done it. He was freed from Goddard and rolled to put out the flame as the other vampire stumbled back, screaming, trying to figure out what was happening to him. Then his eyes lighted on Cai and he ran at him again, unholy fury in his face and flame whipping around him. Goddard was a determined fucker when he was pissed.
Rand laid Cai on the ground, snatched up the dropped stake and ran at him. He was going to meet that charge. Cai shouted a weak protest, but he couldn't grab onto him.
The truce, if that was the best word for a nuclear deterrent, ended. The other three vampires leaped forward, the wolves springing to intercept, the full storm of violence erupting.
Cai tried to struggle to his feet. Rand, goddamn it. He saw Goddard's eyes light on the wolf, and the vampire's fangs lengthened. Even with the magical fire engulfing him, he was dangerous, he could--
Rand didn't hesitate. He ran into the grip of those flames, and was engulfed with Goddard. Cai caught the flash of shock on Goddard's face when Rand knocked his blocking arm out of the way as if it was nothing and shoved the stake into Goddard's chest.
His wolf was thorough. Clamping one big hand on Goddard's nape to give him extra leverage, Rand slammed the stake home so the point came out the other side.
But Goddard had one more fuck-you in him. As he struggled in Rand's lethal embrace, he turned, twisted like a pinned cobra. It made Rand stumble.
Shit. Rand!
Goddard brought his boot down on Rand's leg, right above the knee. Even through all the other noise happening, Cai heard the horrifying sound of snapping bone and Rand's hoarse cry.
Wolves could heal. Servants could heal. But Cai's magic was a wild card that could change everything. The oil and match combination had ignited and was starting to mushroom. And Rand was caught in the middle of it. His cry elevated to a scream as that green-gold fire rushed into the wound caused by the split bone punching through flesh.
Cai forced away rational argument that his body couldn't contain another blow, another wound, another injury, and focused on saving his wolf. As that pending explosion took its deep breath, ready to burst Goddard into a million teeny tiny satisfying pieces, level the forest and everything living
in it for a mile around, Cai caught the edge of it and held on.
You're my power. My fucking power, and you listen to me, goddamn it. The power of creation, turned in a wrong direction, but he could yank it back.
He would learn later the scream that ripped from his throat was something even more unsettling than Rand's, a primal noise that raised the hackles on every wolf's neck. He was jerked up off his knees, arched back in an impossible way, almost levitated off the ground. Emerald and sun beam arcs of power spun around him, Goddard, and Rand.
Dorothy in the tornado, no house to protect her. That's what he was, but he wouldn't let the tornado call the shots. As Cai grimly hung on, channeling the power into the ground, the sky, the buildings, and even through his own body from whence it had come, he had brief flashes of things.
Fire, making macabre silhouettes of the trees, bending back from the force of a lashing wind. Wolves, running against that backdrop. Taking down Brutus. No stakes, but no problem for the shifters. Tearing a vampire apart worked as effectively as a stake. Surreal.
A yell of warning and the wolves scattered. The fire reflected against steel, a flash, and Malvin's face showed an almost childlike expression of surprise. His head toppled from his shoulders. Before his body even hit the ground, Hector had likewise been decapitated, in a gruesome spray of blood. So quick and effortless, it was almost annoying.
Daegan apparently did live up to assessment of both dick and sword. Though, in all fairness, Cai had provided one hell of a distraction. He doubted anyone would remember that. He wouldn't, because while he hadn't been staked or decapitated, he felt one step away from worm food.
It was sometime later when he had that cohesive thought. Then he realized the wind had died, and there was no more flame. Just little flickers on the ground here and there. A few of the wolves had shifted to human and were stomping out anything that could leave a threat of forest fire.
There were no buildings left in the clearing. Goddard's camp had been reduced to smoking piles of ash. Occasionally something that looked like an electric charge, a quick, ground-covering bolt of lightning, rippled over those mounds. Cool.
