by Quinn Loftis
“Yes. Costin, hurry.” His mate’s voice was urgent.
The beast had been clamoring for flesh between his teeth and under his claws. Looks like he was going to get his wish. The she-wolf would die for touching his son.
Chapter Nineteen
“I always doubted those people who said that they’d done something in a rage and couldn’t remember a second of what they’d done. After today, I wouldn’t doubt them again.” ~Jen
* * *
The bitch had Titus by his throat. Wrong move, Jen thought as she stepped further into the room. As soon as she’d reached the bottom of the stairs, the smell of fear and rage assaulted her. All her packmates were lined up against the back wall where the hallways to the rest of the archives were located. Zara was holding Thia and Rachel was holding Slate. Gavril looked as though he was seconds away from killing something, and Stephanie, AKA dead-she-wolf-walking, was standing across from all of them with an arm wrapped around Titus and her hand clasped on his throat. Jen was happy to see Stephanie wasn’t shirtless. She was wearing a black tank top that must have been under the shirt Decebel had found.
“Come with me of your own free will, and I won’t hurt the boy,” Stephanie said, looking at Sally.
At first, Jen wondered how the woman even knew who Sally was, but, in the current era of information, the Order no doubt had a picture of her. Hell, they probably had a file on all of them.
Jen glanced at Alina who was snarling and practically foaming at the mouth. Crap, Jen thought. Note to self, don’t piss off Alina. She will gut you.
“You know you won’t make it out of Romania alive,” Wadim said.
Jen cringed. “Wadim, maybe don’t point that out to the dog who has a pup in her clutches?”
“Who you calling a dog?” Stephanie snarled as she turned her glowing gaze on Jen.
Jen grinned to herself. Apparently, this she-wolf had an ego problem. Good to know. “Well, if you smell like one and bark like one,” she said with a shrug, “it’s pretty safe to say you are one. Now give Titus back to his mom and let’s settle this like wolves do.”
She heard Sally gasp and Zara ask what that meant, but Jen didn’t take her eyes off Stephanie.
“You honestly think you have a chance against me? You aren’t even a full wolf. I can smell the human in you. And you’re young. Do you have any idea how old I am?” the she-wolf asked.
“Judging by those crow’s feet around your eyes and the creases on your neck, you aren’t a spring chicken, that’s obvious. Crap, you’re not even a middle-age cow. Pretty sure you passed that up a few decades ago,” Jen said, sounding bored, though inside she was itching to rip out the woman’s throat.
The woman laughed. “Trying to goad me, pup? It won’t work. If I fight you, there will be no submission,” Stephanie said.
“Works for me,” said Jen.
“You want the boy back? Fine, we fight. When I win, your healer comes with me, and I am granted safe passage out of here.”
Jen hesitated.
“Deal,” said Sally, quickly stepping forward. “If you win, I go with you. I am a healer of this pack. They will abide by my wishes.”
“Sally…” Jen growled.
“You’ve got this,” said Sally.
Stephanie tilted her head to the side and pursed her lips. “How sweet. The big, bad dormant is protecting her little healer-wheeler.”
“This dormant is about to end you. Now”—Jen’s eyes narrowed on her prey—“give the boy back to his mother and let’s get on with it. I have things to do, other supernatural beings to kill, and my toenails could use a new coat of polish.” She paused and tapped her chin. “And I’m hungry. Had to think about it a minute, but yep, I’m definitely hungry.”
Stephanie was looking at Jen like she was a complete nut job, which is exactly what Jen wanted her to think. People who were nut jobs didn’t get taken seriously, and Jen wanted this flea bag to underestimate her.
Stephanie released Titus and pushed him toward Sally, who rushed forward and grabbed him. The healer gave the she-wolf a scathing look and a snarl worthy of a mama bear. Jen smiled. Sally snarling was really more like a mouse spreading its lips, but her brown eyes were shooting daggers.
Jen started stripping off her clothes and nearly laughed when Stephanie’s eye began to widen.
“Jen, do you really think this is a good time to strip?” Jacque asked.
She heard Wadim mutter something along the lines of ‘I’m going to die’ under his breath and Zara whisper, “Just cover your eyes for a second.”
“What are you doing?” Stephanie asked.
“I’m a wolf,” Jen said as she felt the beast inside of her practically dancing with joy to be set free. “I fight in my fur.” As the other female’s eyes widened, Jen realized that Stephanie hadn’t expected Jen to be able to phase because she wasn’t full blooded. “You can fight in your human form if you wish, but don’t expect me to go easy on you if you do.” Just as Jen’s last article of clothing hit the floor, she heard her mate’s voice.
“Why is she always taking her bloody clothes off?”
Jen ignored him and let the change take her. Fur ruffled over her skin as the magic that was a part of her shifted and shaped her body into that of a fierce, powerful predator. When all four paws hit the floor, Jen shook out her fur and then looked at the woman across from her. She lifted the lips of her muzzle in a threatening snarl. “Dec, cover Thia’s eyes. This isn’t going to be pretty.”
“Let me deal with her, Jennifer.” Decebel growled through their bond.
“Not a chance in hell, fur ball. The deal has been made.” Jen tuned out the mental commentary of her mate who was not happy about her impromptu battle. She needed to focus on the woman who had dared to put her hands on one of their children.
Stephanie began taking slow, measured steps, and Jen’s wolf moved with her. The pair rotated in a slow circle as they stared each other down. Jen was shocked the other woman hadn’t phased. Maybe she was a kung fu master or something, or perhaps she just sucked at fighting in her wolf form. Jen had gotten better at fighting in both her human and wolf form thanks to her mate. He was determined to make her a killer even though he was also determined to keep her from ever having to use the skills he’d taught her. Joke’s on him, she thought as she circled the woman. About to use the heck out of those skills now. The third time around was Jen’s breaking point. She hadn’t been kidding when she said she was hungry.
Just as Jen lunged, Stephanie phased. Her wolf met Jen’s in the air, and their bodies slammed together. Jen wasn’t going to lie, she had not seen that coming.
“Pay attention to your opponent!” Decebel snarled. “She was watching you closely enough to know the moment you leapt at her.”
“How am I supposed to pay attention if you’re yapping in my ear!” Jen snapped back at the same time she snapped her teeth at Stephanie, just missing the other wolf’s ear by a centimeter. Their feet hit the ground, and both she-wolves backed up and began circling each other once again.
“Watch her ears,” Decebel said, sounding calmer this time. “When they twitch back, she’s about to attack. She’s checking for any points of weakness. It’s instinct. Then, when the ears twitch back forward, she will lunge.”
Jen focused her eyes on Stephanie’s ears. She ignored the wolf’s snarling and snapping teeth and only focused on the ears. A few heartbeats later, sure enough, her ears twitched back for a couple seconds and then forward. Jen didn’t give the other woman time to lunge. Jen leapt first, landing on the other wolf’s back. Stephanie immediately dropped to the ground and attempted to roll. It reminded Jen of a crocodile’s death roll. Yes, she watched the animal channel. Sue her, why don’t you.
Jen latched her jaws onto the back of Stephanie’s head and bit down hard. The she-wolf yelped in pain, and her attempts at rolling became even more desperate.
“Get the kids out of here. Decebel and Sally, too. She doesn’t need to see this,”
Jen told her mate as she clamped her jaws down even harder. She tasted the metallic flavor of blood as her teeth broke through the fur-covered skin.
“Let her go, Jennifer. Vasile needs to deal with her,” Decebel demanded, which almost made her release her prey just so she could laugh at him.
“She put her hands on Titus, one of our pack’s children. You didn’t see the terror in Sally’s eyes when that happened. This wolf is going to die, and I’m going to kill her. Now, get everyone out of here.”
Jen pushed her mate mentally away as she turned her attention back to the wolf she was fighting just in time for Stephanie to abandon her attempt to roll. Instead, the she-wolf began shaking and bucking like a wild horse. Jen’s hold on her loosened, which made the female fight even more to get free.
Suddenly, Jen felt her teeth break free from Stephanie’s head. The force of Stephanie’s flaying body sent Jen toppling to the ground, and her body hit with a thud. Jen heard a snarl just before Stephanie’s wolf form landed on top her. Jen didn’t think. She just reacted on instinct. Before her enemy had time to sink in her teeth, Jen rolled onto her back and thrust her muzzle upward, straight for Stephanie’s vulnerable throat. She felt flesh beneath her teeth. In one smooth motion, Jen jerked her head hard to the side while at the same time rolling herself, putting Stephanie’s body back beneath her. The wolf who had threatened her pack—her family—was on its back with its throat in Jen’s jaws. Jen growled as she ripped her head back. There was a horrible rending sound. Blood sprayed upward, covering Jen’s muzzle. Jen could almost see it in slow motion as the blood flew through the air.
She heard an ear-piercing scream and whipped around, afraid somehow Skender had gotten away from Costin and had come to attempt to take Sally. Instead, she found Zara on the floor. Some of the blood had gotten on the girl and she was staring at it, her eyes wide. She looked as if it was her own blood from her own mortal wound. Zara’s hands shook as she attempted to wipe the blood off her shirt, but she only succeeded in getting blood on her palms and smearing the sticky substance on her clothing.
“What’s wrong with her? And why in bloody hell are you still here?” Jen snapped at her mate.
“You know the answer to that second question. As to the first, I don’t know.”
Wadim reached down and plucked Zara up as if she weighed nothing. He turned his worried eyes to Jen. “I’m going to take her to the back. Can you all deal with this mess?”
Jen gave a slight nod of her head.
“Wadim, do you need help?” Rachel asked.
He looked at the hysterical woman in his arms, and it was the first time Jen had ever seen fear in his eyes.
“I’ll let you know,” he said finally. “I need to pull her out of this first. Unless I can’t. If that’s the case, I will call for you or Sally.”
He turned and ran down one of the dark hallways that would take him and his mate deeper into the archives.
Jen glanced down at the bleeding wolf only to find that her eyes were glazed over and she wasn’t breathing. “Is it horrible of me to admit that the only thing I am feeling in this moment is hunger? Like, I am so freaking hungry,” she asked her mate.
“You’re in shock. It will hit you later,” he said. “Killing someone, no matter how deserving they might be, is never easy and never as black-and-white to your soul as it is to your mind.”
“If you’re saying I’m going to mourn this chick, you don’t know me very well.” She growled through their bond.
“It’s because I know you so well that I can say with certainty that you will mourn her. You will fall apart for the life you had to take, and I will be there to put you back together.”
Jen did not like the idea of weeping over a woman who was hell-bent on hurting people she loved. She did not like the thought of being so weak she couldn’t stomach what she knew had to be done in order to remove the threat to their pack.
“Falling apart over death is not a weakness, Jennifer. It is a sign that you still have a conscience and that your moral compass isn’t broken.”
Zara could taste the blood on her tongue, blood she hadn’t wanted to drink but hadn’t been able to keep from swallowing when her mouth had been forced open at the same time her nose had been clamped shut. Her body had no choice but to swallow, otherwise she couldn’t have taken a breath. She hadn’t eaten in at least a day. She’d only been given water, which she was now trying to keep in her stomach because, although she wanted to get the blood out, she didn’t want to become dehydrated, causing her to be even weaker than she was.
Call her stupid, but Zara still had a small, tiny, almost non-existent hope she might escape. She had to maintain that little measure of hope because, if she didn’t, then she had no reason to continue living. And she wanted to live. Didn’t she? She thought she did, but maybe death was her only hope out of her horrific circumstances.
“What are you thinking, little lamb?” Ander asked her from his perch on the end of the bed. He often sat like a bird on a ledge, on the footboard of the frame, watching her.
Sometimes he watched her like A predator watches its prey, sometimes he watched her like a child finding a new wonder in a zoo animal, and sometimes he watched her the way a man watches a woman he’s obsessed with. His eager eyes drank her in like she was the last drop of blood he’d ever taste. His body practically vibrated with the need to have her; in what way, she really didn’t know and wasn’t sure which way was worse. The thought of him wanting her as a man wants a woman made her want to bathe her flesh in acid, but for him to want her the way a starving man wants a crumb of bread made her wish for every drop of her blood to run out of her body and out of his reach.
“Surely, you’re bored of me by now,” Zara said, her voice hoarse from screaming.
“Foolish girl,” he snapped, his demeanor changing in an instant. “You were made for me. I will never tire of you or grow bored with you. You are mine.”
Zara felt her breathing increase as those words ran through her mind. She’d heard them somewhere before. Where had she heard that, and why hadn’t it terrified her the way it did now as Ander said it?
“Because it’s the truth,” a deep, male voice said. A voice that didn’t belong to the sadistic vampire.
“What?” she said, looking around the room, wondering if someone had dared to walk into the psycho’s lair.
“What?” Ander parroted. “I didn’t say anything, little lamb. Perhaps it is time to feed you if you’re hallucinating.” He jumped down from his crouched position on the bed and straightened his black shirt, brushing imaginary fuzz from it. For a sadistic killer, he always looked so put together. He walked toward her and knelt so their faces were so close she could smell him. “I’ll be back. I will bring you some food. I will provide for you just like you provide for me. Don’t you see, Zara? we are perfect for each other.”
Ander leaned forward and pressed his cold lips to her forehead. She fought the urge to push him away because she knew from experience that it only excited him when she fought back. So, instead, she held perfectly still.
When he finally moved back, he was out the door faster than her eyes could track. Zara began to tremble once he was gone and she no longer had to appear less afraid than she was. In reality, she was terrified.
“His words are a lie, beautiful.” That masculine voice spoke again. “You weren’t made for him. You don’t belong to him. You are not perfect for him. You are mine and I am yours.”
Had she caught the eye of another vampire? Was this vampire more powerful and able to speak to her through walls?
“It’s me, Zara, your mate, Wadim, history boy, werewolf,” the voice said.
She could feel something, some sort of recognition just on the edge of her consciousness, but it was quickly forgotten when she looked down at her hands and realized they were covered in blood. Why were her hands covered in blood? She pressed her back against the cold stone behind her and hurriedly scanned the room for a body. Ander had broug
ht humans to his room before and made her watch as he drained them dry. He’d come to her covered in the blood of others many times. But she didn’t remember him doing it today.
Zara began trying to wipe the blood off of her hands, but it was drying and sticky. “No-no-no-no-no,” she muttered in quick succession, her voice growing louder with each uttered word. She just wanted to be clean again. It had been so very long since she’d been clean. She wanted to smell like soap and not blood and grime. Zara wanted to know what it felt like not to have death on her skin because that was what was all over her, the blood of the dead.
“You can take a shower, Zara love. I can get Rachel or Sally, whomever you want, and they can help you,” the voice who’d called himself Wadim said urgently, as if he somehow cared about her.
“Who are you?” she asked even as she continued to rub at the skin of her hands.
“I’m your mate, remember? We’re sort of, I guess, the equivalent of humans who are engaged to be married. Please remember. Don’t leave me.” His voice cracked as he pleaded with her.
Why was he so upset? He didn’t know her. Why did he seem to care so much?
“My beautiful mate, I know you. You are a part of me, and I am a part of you. Two halves of a whole. You know me, please search your mind. You know me!”
Zara closed her eyes, trying to block out the room around her and search her memories. Did she know him? How could she be engaged and not remember it? She hadn’t been old enough to be engaged when she’d been taken. Maybe she’d finally broken and gone completely crazy. Maybe she was so desperate for someone to love her she’d conjured up this imaginary man. That had to be the answer. “He is not real. He is not real,” she said, hoping that speaking it out loud would bring her back to reality. Not that she particularly wanted to be in reality, but she had to keep what little wits she still had about her.
“I am real, little lamb.” Ander’s voice was like a cold bucket of ice water being thrown on her body, only to be turned to a burning inferno an instant later as if the fires of hell came with Ander’s voice. “When are you going to accept it?”
