Shapes of Autumn (Boxed set, books 1 - 5)

by Veronica Blade

  “She’s safe.” Olivia gave me a look full of awe. “What you’ve accomplished...”

  “Wasn’t enough. We’re trapped and might not make it out alive.” I jerked my head toward the kitchen. As much as I would have liked to talk more with her, I didn’t want thanks or praise, especially not before I had earned it. I wanted Autumn’s parents and my friends safe, but my main motivation for getting Mortimer out of the way was so that I could be with Autumn. “Feed and heal. Then we need to get back to work.”

  “Yes, we need to make some progress, preferably before Mortimer figures out how to break into his suite and reverse the lockdown,” Autumn said, sprinting toward the kitchen. “Then we’ll be fighting off more than just a hundred werewolves or so.”

  “Other than the werewolves we disabled or killed, how many more do you think are inside, Zack?” Olivia asked, trailing her daughter. The rest of us shadowed Autumn and Olivia, careful to keep watch for any intruders.

  I accepted the chicken wing Autumn handed me, sunk my teeth into it and chewed. “They usually have around fifty inside. I saw a ton rushing in after you guys arrived. I’m guessing Mortimer had them searching the building for the intruders and that’s why we didn’t see them all. Once he realizes there isn’t anyone else, he’ll send them all here. I’d be surprised if most of the town didn’t make it inside before lockdown.”

  “I don’t know,” Olivia said, wrinkling her nose. “I’ve got experience dealing with Mortimer. He wouldn’t allow his men to abandon their posts and leave the grounds vulnerable. Besides, as you said, he had no clue how many of us were coming or whether some would storm the mansion by foot.”

  “Hold on.” Autumn paused midbite on a hunk of cheese and closed her eyes. “Mortimer is coming back. I sense a lot of energy. And a lot of werewolves.”

  Crap. Did the witches have enough time to regenerate their powers?

  Jack, you’ll never guess who’s coming. Mortimer’s silent voice sent a chill up my spine.

  Who?

  They can get in, but you can’t get out. Mortimer’s shrill laughter invaded my head.

  “Not to scare anyone, but apparently Mortimer knows a secret way that the werewolves can get in. If that happens, we’ll be fighting hundreds.”

  Quentin accepted Chait’s offer of a piece of turkey. I guess he was no longer a vegetarian. “Against nine of us. Not crazy about those odds.”

  “I’ve seen worse.” Dathan squinted at the door. “They’re here.”

  The thick wood door exploded into shards. “Witches, throw up your walls or this is going to get ugly,” I shouted. Werewolves stormed in, tranquilizers in tow.

  “Zack, get control of them!” Dathan dove at the crowd, rotating as he sliced and diced at werewolves.

  I stayed near the witches, concentrating on the werewolf attacking Autumn. You don’t want to fight us. Stand down.

  He continued swinging the sword. Damn, Mortimer had compelled them not to listen to me. I had to find a loophole. But what words could I say that would override his order not to hear my words? Benjamin, we need help. Gather everyone who’s able to fight, and anything that can be used as a weapon, and come to the cafeteria. Password to get out is star-one-eight-eight. Follow the noise.

  Even with the shape-shifters helping, we would still be less than twenty against hundreds. We were all going to get massacred.

  Chapter SIXTEEN

  Autumn

  Werewolves surrounded us. I couldn’t even begin to imagine how we were going to get out of this. Just when I was convinced this couldn’t get any worse, a boom sounded in the distance. But I couldn’t afford to worry about the source of the noise.

  I had to stay focused. All the blood and death over the last few months meant nothing if Mortimer lived to rule. I wanted someone else to battle Mortimer, but who better than me? Dathan was an ancient and recently had witch’s blood. But he was prone to werewolf bite even as an ancient, and I’d sucked most, if not all, of the magic from him. He had plenty of werewolves handy for the cure, but what if while he battled Mortimer, he wasn’t able to get werewolf blood quickly enough?

  While Zack had werewolf-vampire hybrid powers, he didn’t come from ancient parents. My parents? No, I couldn’t let them or Natasha fight Mortimer. The reason they survived at all was because they had escaped, not because they’d beaten Mortimer. I couldn’t give him the chance to hurt anyone I loved.

  Mortimer, you coward, come fight me like a man. I vaulted up and avoided a blade to my neck, and landed near the wall. I shoved my way to the doorway, cutting my sword through the air as I passed werewolves. I searched for Mortimer, my gaze landing on people I didn’t know who had just joined the fight against Mortimer’s army.

  Shape-shifter prisoners! And Natasha fought alongside them, her sword blazing as she ripped through her attackers. Maybe we were only outnumbered twenty to one now.

  And you are? Mortimer appeared in the cafeteria and slipped past his people who were fighting for their lives, his eyes hunting for the silent voice.

  Right, he hadn’t located me yet, probably due to all the supernatural energy swirling around the room. Good, I needed to be invisible a bit longer.

  Who am I? The cure for your disease. I couldn’t be stupid about this. While I didn’t want Mortimer to kill anyone I loved, I needed to survive this too. Hugging the wall and keeping low, I avoided getting too close to anyone’s sword as I scanned the faces for Mortimer.

  My dad battled a werewolf. No, two of them. Blood oozed from his abdomen and he reeled. I rushed to his side and caught him by the arm as he went down, cutting my sword through the air and slicing off one of the werewolf’s arms. A thrust of my sword into the other werewolf’s neck, stunning him long enough for me to swing the blade and take off his head.

  Letting my dad slide to the floor, I leapt up, landing a heel in each of the two approaching werewolves. I followed it up with a dagger in the heart to one, then sprung up behind the other and wrenched off his head. After retrieving my dagger from the paralyzed werewolf, I chopped off his head, then moved my dad out of the way.

  “Your mother.” Pressing his hand into his abdomen, he nodded to his left.

  I tossed him my sword so he could defend himself until he healed, then bolted to my mother, who was fighting three werewolves. The ground trembled, but I couldn’t worry what was happening outside the building. Maybe Mortimer’s “secret” entrance was blowing up one side of the mansion.

  Snatching up a sword beside a dead werewolf, I rocketed to my mom. I couldn’t afford to be fancy or play games. I slashed the neck of one. Using the momentum of the swing, I whirled around and cut off the head of the next one. That left my mom fighting only one.

  More werewolves poured into the cafeteria. My gaze landed on Mortimer just as he located me. He smiled as he strolled along the other side of the wall, leaning occasionally to avoid a blade. I mimicked his moves, making my way to the other end of the room.

  A little girl is going to overpower me? He chuckled into my mind. This is intriguing.

  I’d let him believe I was weak, then take him by surprise. You’ll probably kill me. But while I keep you busy, your men are dying. Pretty soon, you’ll have no one to fight for you. And then your whole empire will be gone.

  He laughed. We were face to face now, near the door leading to the cooking area. I didn’t want to be trapped in any small space with Mortimer. I backed up a few feet, but didn’t take my eyes off him. Maybe Zack needed help. Either of my parents could have been killed by now. Where the hell was Dathan?

  I had to focus on Mortimer.

  I dedicated all my attention to him—the stench oozing from his pores, arms hanging loose at his side, the flutter of his index finger against his thigh, his relaxed stance and the angle of his chin. His slow heartbeat and steady breathing told me he was confident that he and his people would triumph.

  I wouldn’t bother trying to match his strength, but I was pretty sure I could compete with his speed.
And I doubted he had any magic.

  His gaze met mine and grew a shade darker. You’ll drop your weapon and meet me after this is all over. At that time, you will be my servant and do anything I ask.

  My scalp tingled as he tried to enter my head. Nice try.

  A blaze ignited in his eyes. “What makes you so special that you can withstand my compulsion?”

  One side of my mouth curled up. “Come closer and find out.”

  In a flash, his sword pressed against my neck and his other arm gripped my waist. He was fast. I’d thrown my shield up and knew his blade couldn’t pierce my skin, but the shield wasn’t necessary. He hadn’t intended to kill me. Yet. He was too curious to learn what made me tick.

  When he angled closer for a whiff of me, my knee slammed into his groin, then the palm of my hand thrust into his nose, my fingertips gouging his eyes.

  Keeping my shield up, I swung my sword at his neck. His arm blocked me with such power, my sword went flying. While my arm flailed to catch the sword, all my attention went to retrieving it and I let down my shield. He wrenched my arm in an impossible direction and my ulna snapped. I grimaced, but threw my shield back up. Wincing in pain, I mentally searched for the sword.

  Why was I bothering? I couldn’t get enough power into the weapon to kill him, not without getting hold of it. With all my mental power, I shoved him away and he crashed into a steel rack.

  He smirked. Is that all you can do, just push things around?

  Crap, yeah, it really was all I could do. And shield myself. How the hell was I going to kill him? And why was I so stupid to think I could ever overpower him?

  Your arm is broken and you’ll need your energy to heal. But you’re using up all your power. You can’t battle adequately with a useless limb. Eventually, you’ll get too tired. Mortimer’s smug grin had my jaw clenching. And then I’ll kill you.

  My good hand gripped the sword and my muscles tensed. Mortimer was right. I was already wearing out. Whatever move I made had to be good—with only one arm—and it needed to be final.

  Dathan had told me to trust myself, that I could do more than I thought. He had enough faith in my abilities to give me the witch blood instead of keeping it for himself. What did he know that I didn’t?

  If you thought you could kill me, you would’ve already done it.

  He sneered. Or I just enjoy toying with my kills.

  That was probably it. I steadied my invisible shield, tuned out everything else around me and ignored the searing ache in my arm. Taking a deep breath, summoning all my telekinesis power, I jammed his eyelids closed, blinding him. While he was stunned and couldn’t see, I held his arms in place with my mind and then plunged the sword into his heart, the force of the blade pushing him back.

  But he was paralyzed, not dead. Which meant he was still conscious. I scanned the room to see it had suddenly become motionless and eerily quiet. Headless bodies covered a large portion of the floor. How was it possible that they’d all been killed or neutralized when there had been hundreds of them? The place was filled with shape-shifters and werewolves, most of whom I didn’t know. Where had they come from?

  Then I spotted Renzo and my throat thickened. He hadn’t stayed back as Dathan had commanded. Instead, he’d brought an army and kicked some major ass. His presence probably explained the earlier booms as he broke into the building. I wasn’t so sure that we would have triumphed against all those werewolves without his help.

  And next to him stood Favianne, Zack’s mom. At the sight of her, knowing she was alive and well, my heart swelled and my eyes misted.

  “What are you waiting for?” Dathan appeared at my side and handed me another sword. “Kill Mortimer. Do it.”

  “In cold blood? He can’t do anything to us now, not like this.”

  Autumn, you can’t allow him to live. He won’t be your average prisoner and since he can control minds, we’ll never be able to keep him locked up. He’ll get free somehow, and this will all have been for nothing. Dathan gripped my chin and made me face him. Finish this. Now.

  Dathan was right. Mortimer had become my job when I started the fight with him. I positioned myself standing at his shoulder and I raised my sword. Images rushed me—my mother struggling to free herself from Mortimer, my dad’s agonized face as he received a lashing, Natasha screaming as werewolves beat her.

  Mortimer had figured out who my parents were. He didn’t want me to forget that even if I killed him, I could never undo the suffering he’d inflicted on my family. His last-ditch effort to control me.

  My sword swung low like a guillotine, flesh squished and bone fractured.

  Not a clean cut.

  Again, Dathan urged me silently.

  Bile rose up from my stomach and my eyes leaked with frustration. But I couldn’t be weak and allow Mortimer to ever harm anyone else. I commanded myself to lift the sword again, then sunk the blade into his neck with all my strength. The cement floor below cracked and I nudged the head away. It was as if the world stopped around me. Nothing but silence as I stared into Mortimer’s lifeless eyes.

  “Long live Queen Autumn!” Dathan bellowed.

  What? I blinked, meeting the stunned expressions on the people in the room. Everyone stared at me, some with their mouths open.

  “Bow to your queen!” Dathan ordered, but the werewolves didn’t budge.

  “On your knees!” Zack hulked toward those who remained standing. Most of them dropped and the rest followed moments later.

  “She’s just a little girl,” a man from the crowd rasped. “And a shape-shifter.”

  Dathan stalked through the mob, looking for the source of the voice. He stopped, held out the tip of the sword and poked the shoulder of the man who had spoken. “This little girl just slayed your king. According to werewolf law, the one who kills the king inherits the throne.”

  “She’s a shape-shifter,” another man growled, avoiding our gaze. But he remained on his knees.

  “Yes, but she’s half werewolf. The legend of Hannah and Eli, who defied Mortimer and escaped, is all true. Hannah lived hundreds of years and became strong enough to birth a child.” Dathan turned toward me and bowed. “A child with all her mother’s ancient power and her shape-shifter father’s cunning, a baby girl who would grow to be more powerful than any werewolf in history. You want a strong werewolf ruler? Here she is.”

  Are you kidding me? Zack asked me silently.

  “Even if her mother was once betrothed to the king, that doesn’t make her royalty. Besides, she’s an outsider,” a werewolf snarled from the back of the cafeteria.

  “An outsider is precisely what your people need. The old ways of slavery don’t work, be it your own women or other species. The girl will help you acclimate to modern day.”

  My mom weaved through the crowd, her head held high, to stand in front of me. She turned to the people. “I am Hannah and can attest to the truth in Dathan’s words. Anyone who challenges my daughter’s right to the throne will have to go through me.”

  “And me,” my dad said, standing next to my mom then threading his fingers through hers. “I am Eli.”

  Hannah and Eli are your parents and you don’t look surprised at all. How long have you known? Zack sounded more than a little pissed, which almost made me forget about my throbbing arm. But who could blame him?

  Natasha leaped past the crowd to land beside my parents. “I am Natasha, the shape-shifter queen. I stand with Autumn too.”

  Natasha is actually Isabella, Eli’s sister. She’s my aunt. My eyes pleaded with Zack to understand. Please don’t be mad. I didn’t find out until recently and my mother swore me to secrecy. I gave her my word.

  A hurt look replaced his fiery eyes. All right. Now’s probably not a good time to go into detail about it.

  But how upset was he at me and could he forgive me for keeping that secret from him?

  Zoe slipped in front of my parents, raised her palms up and the air swirled in the room. Swords and random objects
levitated, then circled above the heads of the crowd. The objects picked up speed, spinning around until the whir of the noise grew to a high pitch. Then the objects clattered to the marble floor. “Trust me, none of you are getting past my sister or me.”

  The crowd lowered closer to the floor in submission, signaling their total surrender.

  I was actually going to take the throne and be queen. How could I get out of this? I didn’t want to be ruler of all werewolves. I had just needed Mortimer gone so Zack and I could be free to be together. Dathan, I don’t understand what’s happening. I don’t want this.

  Sorry, but being ruler is a life sentence. The only way to give up the throne is through death. Not an option for you. “As werewolf law mandates, anyone who refuses to pledge fealty to their ruler gives up their right to live.”

  “Wait.” Zack’s eyes were wild, desperate. “I’m still marrying Autumn, whether she’s queen or not.”

  You still want to marry me? I asked Zack. Even after I kept that secret?

  Zack hooked an arm around my waist and pulled me against him. We’ve been through too much to give up now. And I know you, Autumn. You’ll weigh everything and make the best choice you can. You thought you were doing the right thing keeping your mom’s confidence. I trust you.

  My heart warmed and I brushed a soft kiss on his lips. Thank you.

  Dathan nodded, then shifted to me. “Do you intend to marry this man?” If he’s going to rule with you, his position must be established now. This is how it works in the werewolf world. It’s an alpha thing.

  If ruling would be a life sentence, I wanted Zack by my side. I met his gaze, hoping with all my heart he meant what he’d said and wasn’t going to bail on me. Why would he want such a huge responsibility when he could be free instead? His eyes shone and I almost got lost in them. But now was not the time to get soft. “Absolutely. Zack is my forever.”