The Last Warrior: Shifters Unbound Book 13

by Ashley Jennifer

“Oh?” Ben steadied himself while looking for a chance to rip Ivor’s head off. “How’d that work out for you and Lady Aisling?”

  The rage in Ivor’s eyes told Ben he’d scored a point. Lady Aisling was home and safe, while Ivor puttered around the human world trying to kidnap his own daughter.

  “What’cha doing in here?” Ben asked him casually. “Cracking open the ley line?”

  “Drawing its power into me.” Ivor lowered his sword point to the ground. “I will use it to flatten your Shiftertown and this human city, if Rhianne does not come to me.”

  “Yeah?” Ben hid a qualm. Ivor could do it, he had no doubt. “How about I bounce you on your face instead?”

  “Goblins. Always so violent. If you like the earth as much as you say—enjoy it.”

  Ivor swiped the sword across the grass. A fissure opened in the dirt, widening and lengthening on its own, the ley line shimmering the air.

  Ben scrambled backward to keep from falling into the abyss. Ivor had done this exact thing at the park in New Orleans, he realized. He must have been there on the other side of the gate, waiting for Ben to be swallowed so he could grab Rhianne. Except Rhianne had saved Ben, and then Shifter Bureau had slid in, blocking Ivor’s way.

  Ben never thought he’d be grateful to those assholes, but in this case they’d probably saved his and Rhianne’s lives.

  Dirt and grass spilled into the crack as Ben readied himself to leap it. He would grab Ivor and throw him into the hole, end of problem.

  Before he could, a roar behind him made him swing around. Beyond the goblins, who were laughing as they caught Walther’s many arrows and threw them back at him, a horde of Shifters headed for them in a full-on attack.

  Not adult Shifters, Ben realized as he stared. The cubs.

  A lion whose black mane hadn’t fully grown led them, along with a fleet Bengal tiger who darted from the lion to their troops and back again. Next to Connor came a half-grown polar bear, his roars occasionally deepening into those of the massive beast he’d become.

  Following them were all the cubs of Shiftertown—Jordan as jaguar, the bears from Ronan’s household, lean-legged wolves, and more wild cats. Every cub who’d progressed above babyhood through those who’d reached their Transition rushed across the green, intent on the enemy.

  Ben felt a surge of glee and pride followed swiftly by terror. “No!” he yelled at Connor and Tiger-girl.

  Ivor watched the approaching horde with contempt. “Why warn them? They can do nothing against me.”

  He turned away, swirling his sword to continue his work on the ley line.

  The Shifter cubs raced toward them, bounding, roaring, ready to fight. Ivor could obliterate them in an instant, but he seemed in no hurry to do so.

  He didn’t consider them a threat, Ben realized. Ivor underestimated them, just as he underestimated Rhianne, and Ben, and everyone else he’d ever encountered.

  Ben turned for the cubs. “To me!” he yelled. He’d gather them and lead them the hell away from Ivor and Walther’s deadly arrows. “To me, little ones!”

  Their yowls of fury and triumph increased. Olaf bellowed the roar of a polar bear who could tear apart his prey with one swipe of his paw.

  Thunder answered their shouts, and the crack in the earth widened.

  * * *

  Inside the silent stasis of the glasslike ripples, Tiger heard the voice of the young Bengal, his cub. His body was tight with energy drawn from Ivor’s magic, the earth, and the lightning that stalked the skies.

  The waiting was over.

  Now! Tiger roared and broke his bonds.

  Chapter Twenty-Five

  Rhianne, from her swirling height above Shiftertown, watched the thick ripples splinter like glass. Tiger sprang from them in his between-beast form, his roar drowning out the thunder.

  The cubs shrieked with delight and rushed for Tiger. Ivor swung around, but his amazement at Tiger’s escape did not halt him for long. He gathered his power, the immensity of it touching Rhianne high above him.

  No! she shrieked.

  Her thoughts flashed to a scene from her childhood, one of the rare times she could recall her mother and Ivor together. They’d been traveling from somewhere Rhianne couldn’t remember to her mother’s home and had come upon a trade caravan of hoch alfar on the road, the slow-moving conveyances blocking their path.

  The hoch alfar hadn’t been warriors or lords or haughty Fae princes, but merchants returning from a market fair, laden with goods.

  Ivor, impatient, had risen in his stirrups, called down terrible magic, and obliterated the entire caravan. Men, women, children, horses, dogs, livestock. Dead in an instant, and then they’d shriveled to dust from another blast of his magic.

  Rhianne, a child, hadn’t been able to banish the horrifying images from her head for decades, and they’d never truly gone.

  After that she hadn’t seen Ivor much anymore. She’d not witnessed her mother turning him out, but he’d vanished from their lives.

  Ivor could kill all the Shifters emerging from the stasis, down to the last cub. He’d imprisoned the Shifters inside the ripples not from any compassion but to save himself having to expend the energy on killing them. He’d come here to take Rhianne—everything else had been unimportant.

  The thick stasis field continued to shatter as more and more Shifters returned to view, shaking themselves free.

  No! She wanted to scream at Tiger. Put them back. Keep them safe.

  The Shifters quickly took in the situation—Walther, Ivor, the cubs, Tiger. As one they sprinted toward the advancing cubs, their first instinct to protect the offspring.

  Dylan roared for them to halt. Shifters snarled, skidding in the grass, turning back. Dylan’s air of command was enough to make them remember their purpose, to defeat the enemy. Only then would the cubs be safe.

  Under his barking roars, the Shifters formed up into columns, putting the cubs behind them, and then they struck.

  Rhianne screeched her eagle’s cry. She sensed Ivor reaching for the deep, nasty magic that would destroy the Shifters. It was difficult magic, but the Shifters were leaving him no choice, in Ivor’s opinion. It was him or them.

  The cubs didn’t stay put. They raced along with the Shifters, their smaller bodies rushing under those of the adults. Tiger-girl, darting ahead, bound in one swift leap over the gap in the earth, landing paws-first on Ivor.

  Ivor stumbled back, fighting her with his bare hands. Olaf also jumped the gap and began biting Ivor’s boots.

  The scene would be comical if it weren’t so terrifying. Rhianne dove, wings coming out to slow her as she neared the earth. She righted herself, latched her talons into Olaf’s thick fur, and rose with him, carrying him out of harm’s way.

  Olaf kicked and squirmed, growling his displeasure. Rhianne felt the waves of his irritation rolling to her.

  Why’d you do that? I was kicking butt. Put me down!

  Rhianne rasped her admonishment. Cease flailing or I might drop you.

  Olaf at least quieted long enough for Rhianne to circle to the rear of the Shifters and deposit Olaf in front of the giant polar bear Zander, who’d risen to his hind legs to watch them come.

  Olaf hopped up to his back legs as soon as Rhianne let him go. Did you see me, Zander? Did you see me? I kicked butt. And then I was flying.

  Thanks for that, Zander’s body language said to Rhianne. He gave her a salute with his giant paw before he turned to round up more of the cubs.

  Rhianne winged once more to the front of the fight. She couldn’t fly all the Shifters to safety, she knew. She had to kill Ivor instead.

  Ivor had managed to get Tiger-girl off him. He must have used magic, because she limped along the far side of the trees, snarling her fury, with Connor circling her, protecting her.

  Walther was laughing. His hands moved in a blur as he shot arrow after arrow at the Shifters, happy to have targets he could hit. More than one Shifter went down with arrows in their hides, ev
en as others strove to reach him.

  An arrow flew straight toward Sean’s mate, Andrea. Sean, who’d sprinted from the circle of trees as soon as he’d been freed, shoved her hard, both of them going down in a spurt of dust as the arrow flew harmlessly past them. Sean lost hold of his sword, which tumbled away from him and imbedded itself, point-downward, in the grass.

  A bright light rent the space between the trees, and a tear in the fabric of the air opened. From it stepped another Fae, this one in bronze chain mail and a cloak, long white braids swinging.

  He rapidly positioned himself behind Walther and grabbed him by the throat.

  “That was my daughter you were aiming at,” he declared in hoch alfar.

  Walther elbowed the Fae but struck the hard links of the mail shirt. The warrior positioned his hands on either side of Walther’s head and unceremoniously snapped his neck.

  Walther’s face went still, and he dropped. Dead.

  The warrior dusted off his hands. “I never liked him. Dylan!” he shouted in English. “Come help me clear out the rubbish.”

  Ivor glared at the warrior—Rhianne assumed he was Fionn, who guarded the Fae gate from the other side. Ivor’s expression turned to annoyance, and he pointed a finger at Fionn.

  The Fae warrior screamed as electricity suddenly wound through his mail shirt. Andrea, who’d squirmed out from under Sean, shifted to wolf and ran for Fionn. She dragged him from the clearing, using her teeth and claws to rip the mail from his body.

  The warrior lay limp, Andrea whining and nuzzling him, Sean bending to tend him.

  Ivor stepped back, alone once more.

  Lightning struck not far away, the crash of thunder obliterating all other sound. Tiger was roaring, summoning the cubs to him and leading them at a lope away from Ivor. Even Tiger-girl and Connor abandoned the fight, Tiger-girl stumbling eagerly toward Tiger.

  Ivor drew magic from the ley line, from the earth, from the air, from the gate, from the storm. He was about to lay waste to the Shifters, and Rhianne had no idea how to stop him.

  * * *

  Ben did have an idea of what to do, but he didn’t like it. Rhianne floated over the cubs while Tiger led them to safety. Olaf ran around beneath Rhianne, joyfully growling up at her.

  Dylan had the Shifters in formation once more, somehow keeping discipline among independent Shifters who hated to obey anyone.

  Ben felt the change in Ivor—he was ready to end this. He wanted Rhianne, and he’d do what he had to in order to capture her.

  In spite of Tiger’s efforts, Ben knew he couldn’t get the cubs away before Ivor struck. The three goblins had joined the Shifters gathering for battle, Darren and Cyril making all kinds of smartass remarks about how they’d torture Ivor. The Shifters, smartasses themselves, growled their agreement.

  Rhianne circled back toward Ben, anguish in her cries. She knew what Ivor was capable of better than the rest, and she feared it.

  Ben didn’t know exactly what the guy could do, but he was plenty worried himself.

  Ivor floated a few inches above the surface of the earth. He pointed into the fissure that had stabilized, no longer growing. From it flowed a darkness, thick like mucus, that moved swiftly toward the Shifters.

  When it touched paws, the Shifters screamed, jumping and scrambling as though it burned. Darren, unafraid, stepped right into the black ooze, then he too shouted and leapt away.

  “It’s like acid,” he yelled at Ben. “Everyone back.”

  The Shifters retreated, but Ivor wasn’t finished. He drew power into his hands, terrible power that held the stench of death. If he threw that, whatever it was, the Shifters would die, and their bodies would be eaten by the dark slime that continued its slow flow toward them. End of Ivor’s Shifter troubles.

  Ben watched the sky, smelling the ions that bounced around, waiting to bang into each other and ignite into the hottest fire possible. Right about … now.

  “Clear a path,” Ben shouted.

  He sprinted past the Shifters who were in full retreat, leapt over the crack in the ground, and landed on Ivor. The strength of the Tuil Erdannan kept Ivor from going down under Ben’s assault, but Ben hadn’t intended to knock him over.

  Ben grabbed Ivor’s arm and thrust the hand that still held the Fae sword straight upward toward the sky.

  Lighting flashed down. It burst through the sword, into Ivor, and into Ben, who held the man in his iron hard embrace. Ivor shuddered and screamed, the power he’d held vanishing into dust.

  Oh, man, that seriously hurt. Ben slid from Ivor, barely aware of landing facedown on the damp grass.

  “Love you, Rhianne,” he whispered, and then his world went dark.

  Chapter Twenty-Six

  “No!” Rhianne screamed from on high and shot like an arrow across the green.

  Ivor climbed shakily to his feet, the black magma that had tried to envelop the Shifters vanishing. Ben had stopped it, but Ben was on the ground, unmoving.

  Rhianne felt the mate bond between her and Ben dissolving. That never happened, she’d been told, unless …

  She flapped her wings to move faster. She followed her own shadow on the ground, haloed by the bright sun behind the clouds. A double shadow, she noticed, like a trick of the light. Except the second shadow moved differently from the first.

  Rhianne was too grief-stricken to puzzle that through. Wind from the storm buffeted her, threatening to send her straight into the trees as she approached the circle.

  Millie reached up with large goblin hands and caught Rhianne before she could get snagged in the branches, setting her gently on the ground.

  Rhianne shifted to her Tuil Erdannan form and ran, breath ragged, to Ben’s side.

  His body shrank, the goblin retreating to Ben the man, his limbs askew, his flesh gray. Rhianne dropped to her knees beside him, but Ben didn’t move.

  “Come with me.” The rasp from Ivor made Rhianne jerk her head up.

  Ivor reached a shaking hand to Rhianne. His power was spent for now, but he was still alive, and would regain his strength. While Ben …

  “I can restore him,” Ivor said. “Come with me to Faerie, and I will bring him back to life.”

  “You will keep your filthy hands off him.” Rhianne climbed to her feet. “You killed my mate, you fucking bastard.”

  “Your mother never taught you manners. If you stay here, he’s dead. You bring him, he can be restored.”

  Rhianne wavered. She didn’t trust Ivor, but he was correct that there were magics in Faerie that could work miracles. Ben was a being of Faerie—perhaps taking him to his native land and laying him on the earth where he’d been born would help him.

  But then Ivor would have her, not to mention Ben, at his mercy.

  “Screw you,” she shouted.

  Rhianne attacked Ivor, never mind shifting, never mind magic. She simply went at him, punching and kicking, avenging herself, her mother, the caravan of hoch alfar he’d killed because they’d inconvenienced him, the Shifters he’d hurt today.

  Ivor struck back. Rhianne dodged and turned, deflecting his blows to serve blows of her own. Take the energy, redirect it to him.

  Ben had taught her a new way to think, to feel. He’d taught her so much, especially what it was to truly love.

  When Ivor regained his strength he would lay waste to this Shiftertown, perhaps this entire human city, and Ben would be no more. Rhianne would not be able to take Ben through the gate in time, if that would even help him.

  What to do? She could punch and kick Ivor to make herself feel better, or she could finish this.

  Rhianne leapt into the air, becoming the eagle as she spread her arms. She flew the few yards from the circle to Sean’s Sword of the Guardian still sticking out of the grass.

  Rhianne threw off her eagle form, grabbed the sword, and ran with it to the trees. The sword tingled her palm, but it felt right nestled in it, as though she was meant to wield it.

  She halted in astonishment. Inside t
he circle of trees, Ivor battled with a second eagle, who circled and struck with the ease of long practice.

  Rhianne nearly dropped to her knees at the realization of who this eagle must be.

  She kept to her feet, knowing she couldn’t lose her determination now. She raced to Ivor, who continued battling the second eagle.

  Rhianne waited for an opening, then thrust the sword at Ivor’s chest. “This is for my mate,” she yelled.

  Ivor caught the blade in a strong hand, redirecting all his magic to keep it from penetrating his body.

  The second eagle screeched and dove at his face. Ivor fought him off, but his solid grip on the sword did not move.

  Rhianne reached into herself for her Tuil Erdannan magic, searching for something that would infuse the sword with the extra power it needed to finish him. She felt Ivor call up a word of power at the same time. They’d kill each other if they both invoked at this close range, and possibly take out part of Shiftertown.

  A hand on hers made her yelp. Rhianne’s breath stopped as she beheld Ben, wan-faced, in his man shape, drag himself to his feet, using the sword in Rhianne’s firm grasp as a hand-hold.

  “Let me help you there.” Ben’s whisper was weak, containing the barest trace of his humor. He held up the crystal Lady Aisling had given him for communication, the quartz glittering in the stormy light. “This kinda scares him. Want to find out why?”

  Ivor’s eyes widened, his grip tightening in desperation. Ben sent him a ghost of a grin.

  The second eagle touched to earth and rose into the body of a human male, his face hard, his red-brown hair flecked with gray. He laid a strong hand over Ben’s and Rhianne’s.

  Ben added the crystal, and the three of them sent the Sword of the Guardian straight into Ivor’s chest.

  Ivor screamed as the magic of goblin, Shifter, Tuil Erdannan, and the Fae magic of the Sword found his arrogant heart and destroyed him.

  Ivor writhed, which only drove the sword deeper, then his body began to smoke.