by Zoe Chant
“Yessss,” hissed Connor—except it wasn’t Connor. His green eyes were wide, panicked, the only part of him left under his own control. His teeth bared in a horrible parody of his usual grin. “Sssstrike me now, and this host dies as well.”
Thunder rumbled again. Lightning hissed and spat from the Thunderbird’s outstretched claws.
“You can’t just kill him!” Diana shouted up at the Thunderbird. “There has to be another way!”
“Let me go, and perhapssss I will release him.” The demon was backing away, stumbling in jerky, graceless steps, manipulating Connor like a puppet. “You have no other choice. You cannot force me out. You are not his mate.”
“No,” Callum said, stepping forward. “But I’m his brother.”
He lunged, grabbing hold of Connor’s wrist. And the pranks didn’t matter, the differences between them didn’t matter, the old hurts and misunderstandings and arguments didn’t matter.
Because, beneath all that, they were family.
Callum seized hold of that connection, the bond that he’d tried to deny for so long. He plunged into Connor’s bright kaleidoscope of a soul, chasing away the shadows that sought to smother it. The demon recoiled from him, unable to comprehend such fierce, irrational love.
Connor’s fingers closed on his own wrist. His brother coughed out a last shred of demonic smoke, and lifted his head to meet his eyes.
“Hey, bro.” Connor’s voice was weak and hoarse, but his grin was as cocky as ever. “Didn’t know you cared.”
Callum held him up, shoulder to shoulder. “I’m the only one who gets to kill you.”
“Ditto.” Connor looked past Callum, his eyes widening. “And on that topic—duck!”
The world went white. Callum just had a momentary sense of Connor tackling him to the ground as heat roared over them both, and then everything seemed to glitch.
When he came to, he found himself staring up at his own face, ears ringing. Connor gave him a rueful grin, his body still covering his own protectively. His hair was standing on end, crackling with static electricity.
“Always wondered what it would be like to get hit by lightning,” Connor said, too loudly. His brother rolled off him, rubbing at one ear with a pained expression. “Gotta say, it’s not as much fun as I expected.”
Where the demon had been was nothing but a smoking, blackened crater. Fallen branches burned fitfully around the rim. On pure reflex, Callum scrambled up, kicking the flaming debris into the charred area so that the fire couldn’t spread. Out of the corner of his eye, he saw Connor doing the same thing.
“I got this,” Connor shouted, still talking far too loudly. He waved Callum off. “You take care of him.”
The hellhound must have been knocked unconscious in the Thunderbird’s initial attack, lapsing back into human form. Now Maurice was stirring groggily, starting to push himself to hands and knees. Callum pinned him down, twisting one arm behind the hellhound’s back so that he wouldn’t be able to shift.
“Surrender,” Callum growled. Inside, his pegasus wanted to trample the man to a bloody pulp, but that would just be sinking to Maurice’s level. The hellhound would receive more than enough punishment at the hands of the law. “It’s over. You’ve lost.”
“So have you, little shifter.”
That crooning, amused voice raised the hair on the back of Callum’s neck. When the demon had been using Connor’s tongue, it had still sounded like his brother…but this didn’t sound anything like Maurice. It wasn’t even a male voice.
The whites showed all around Maurice’s eyes. It was clear the hellhound didn’t have any clue what was happening either. The mark on his hand was glowing brighter, pulsing like a heartbeat.
“You don’t yet understand the cost of your so-called victory,” continued the foreign voice coming from Maurice’s mouth. The evil red light ran further up the hellhound’s arm, under the skin, spreading like an infection. “Look to your mate, little shifter. Look to your mate, and despair.”
It had to be a trick, but Callum couldn’t help glancing in Diana’s direction. While he’d been distracted, the Thunderbird had landed, mantling Diana in its wings. She had her head tipped back, revealing her pale, set face. Callum couldn’t hear anything himself, but it looked like Diana was listening to something.
A throaty female laugh came from Maurice’s throat. The hellhound was writhing now, fighting—not Callum’s hold on him, but whatever force had taken over his body. His skin was cold as ice under Callum’s hands.
“You have lost her,” that evil voice murmured. Red light veined all through Maurice’s flesh now, consuming him from within. “The storm will take her, and change her, and nothing of her own mind will remain. You should have let my servant kill her, little shifter. It would have been kinder.”
Maurice gave one last gasping breath, going still. Callum jerked away as the hellhound disintegrated in a flare of light. There was nothing left of him but a patch of frost in the exact shape of his body.
“Diana.” Callum ran for her, pushing through the Thunderbird’s storm-gray feathers, that last cold laugh still ringing in his ears. “Diana!”
She didn’t turn at his call. Even when he grabbed her shoulders, pulling her round, her gaze stayed fixed on the Thunderbird.
And her eyes burned white with lightning.
Chapter 31
CHANGE
The thunderous voice swept through Diana with the force of a hurricane. A storm of imagery and emotions assaulted her, too much for any mere human mind to comprehend. She could only grasp snatched fragments—darkness welling up out of the ground, lightning striking between clouds, fury and fire and a terrible, aching loneliness…
And through it all, a single insistent, irresistible command.
CHANGE
Its voice shook her body, her mind, her very soul. Lightning coursed under her skin, struggling to break free, to unfold into stormcloud wings. Her human self was just an egg, cracking, shattering.
“Diana!”
Callum’s voice was just a whisper in the raging storm. But his love wrapped round her, sheltering her from the storm that sought to sweep her away. He held her, held her together, fighting the force that was trying to rip her apart and remake her into something new.
CHANGE, the Thunderbird demanded, in a voice that could not be denied.
But Diana knew how to handle inner voices.
She opened herself to the storm—not fighting it, not trying to resist, but not giving way to it either. She let the power flow through her, acknowledging it without surrendering to it, just like she did with her anxieties. She was a tree, storm-tossed, bowing to a greater power…but not breaking.
She was strong. And her roots went deep.
Chapter 32
In Callum’s arms, Diana let out a long, slow breath. When she opened her eyes again, they were her own once more—dark brown, soft, human. And yet…not entirely unchanged. There was a calmness to them, a sense of hidden power, that hadn’t been there before.
But she was still his Diana, still his mate. She smiled at him, reaching up to touch his face.
“Callum,” she whispered. “I heard you. I heard you calling to me.”
He tightened his arms around her, heart still pounding with terror and relief. “I thought I’d lost you. Whatever the Thunderbird was doing, I could feel it tearing you away. Tearing you apart.”
“He wasn’t trying to hurt me. He’s just so alone.”
“He?”
Diana nodded, her expression serious. She turned in his embrace, tilting her face upward. The Thunderbird still loomed over them both, motionless as a mountain.
“I’m sorry,” Diana said softly to the vast bird. “I’ll do what I can, but I won’t come with you. This is where I belong.”
The Thunderbird bowed its head. Callum tensed, but Diana just laid her hand on the enormous hooked beak.
“Yes,” she whispered, as though it had spoken to her. “I will. I promise.”
The Thunderbird closed its eyes for a moment. Then it straightened again, spreading its wings. Wind whipped their clothes and hair. Callum held Diana close, protecting her from the downdraft.
“What did it want?” Callum asked Diana, as the bird took off.
Diana’s gaze tracked the Thunderbird as it soared into the sky. “Help. And not just fighting Uncegila and her brood. He’s lost, he can’t find his way home—”
Then Diana gasped, clutching at his arm. “Callum! He needs our help now!”
Callum was already thrusting her behind him, his pegasus senses screaming as a dozen blood-red lives appeared out of nowhere. Fierce, feral barks split the air.
“Oh, goodie. More fun.” Connor was abruptly at his back, sandwiching Diana between them. “Who else is joining this party?”
“Lupa’s pack,” Callum replied grimly, eyes fixed on the dark forms running through the sky. “She must have detected the Thunderbird’s presence. They’ve come to hunt it.”
The hellhounds raced around the huge bird, running on thin air as though it was solid ground. They were far smaller than the Thunderbird, but more agile, and more numerous. They mobbed the struggling bird like crows harassing an owl.
“Hellhounds fly now?” Connor sounded personally offended by this, as though he felt the hellhounds were somehow cheating. “Without wings?”
“These ones do. Something to do with Lupa.” Callum stayed tense and ready, in case any of the hellhounds noticed their audience. “The Thunderbird’s been caught off-guard. Look, it can’t break free.”
The Thunderbird was struggling to gain height, hampered by being so low to the ground. Hellhounds darting in to snap at it with burning jaws, then fled before it could bring its lightning to bear on them.
“We have to help him!” Diana’s face was pale, but she raised her hands. “The wakinyan unlocked something inside me. I didn’t want to try to use it again until I understood it better, but—”
“It’s all right.” Callum caught her wrist. “Don’t risk yourself. Other help is here.”
With a fierce cry, a golden griffin dove from the clouds, scattering the pack. Rory wasn’t alone, either. Edith clung to his back, firing shots from a flare gun. Shan’s winged tiger flew at Rory’s wingtip, roaring and swiping at hellhounds with massive claws. Min-Seo rode him, cackling with wicked glee as she used her power to make hellhounds scramble away from Shan in terror.
And, behind them all, came the shark.
“What the actual fucking fuck?” Connor yelped, ducking low as the shark swooped down, swimming through the sky as if it was water.
“It’s Seren,” Callum explained. “And Joe. It’s a long story.”
Connor shot him a pained look. “Is there anything that doesn’t fly around here?”
“Me,” Joe said, hopping off Seren’s back. He grinned round at them all as his mate soared off to join Rory in the fight. “Hi bros! We left Wystan and Blaise back with Conleth to guard Beth, but the rest of us thought we’d better come rescue you. Picked up some old friends of yours on the way, Cal.”
“Glad to see you,” Callum replied, with feeling. “All of you.”
“About time, bro!” Connor was hopping from foot to foot, nearly beside himself with impatience. “Take over guarding my brother’s sorry ass for me? Someone has to show these jumped-up dogs what real flying is.”
“On it, bro.” Joe high-fived Connor. “Go get ‘em!”
Connor shifted and took off, plunging into the melee with glee. With his arrival, the tides of battle were definitely shifting. Callum’s friends were still outnumbered, but any one of them was a match for at least three hellhounds.
But hellhounds weren’t all that they faced.
Callum threw his mind open, casting an urgent telepathic message to his friends. *Be careful! The wendigo is here!*
Even as he sent the warning, a huge white shape separated from the rest of the pack, plunging toward them. Joe shifted instantly, wrapping protective coils around them. The sea dragon roared at the wendigo as it landed, spreading his talons wide in warning.
The wendigo roared back, ice crystals hanging in the air, facing the sea dragon without any sign of fear. The skull-faced monster was bigger than a polar bear, with antlers ten feet across. It was far smaller than Joe, but size wasn’t everything. Callum tensed despite his injuries, ready to shift and fight.
A woman perched on the wendigo’s hulking shoulders. Callum had never seen her before, but he knew instantly who she was. Lupa was just as Joe had described her—beautiful, arrogant, midnight hair blowing across her cold, angry face. To Callum’s pegasus senses, she was a black hole in the world.
“No.” Lupa’s hard voice carried clearly to his ears, but she didn’t seem to be talking to them. “She has a child. I won’t.”
Lupa paused as though listening to something. The wind caught her hair, tugging it back from her forehead. With a jolt of shock, Callum saw a glowing red mark there—a twisting, horned snake, identical to the one that had been imprinted on the back of Maurice’s hand.
The red glow from the mark brightened, pulsating. Lupa bared her teeth, eyes glittering in anger.
“She didn’t change! She’s no threat to us.” Lupa kneed the wendigo, wheeling her monstrous steed round. “The Thunderbird is our real—”
A huge black shape appeared out of nowhere, knocking Lupa off the wendigo’s back. The beast roared in fury, turning—but Joe lashed out, sweeping it away with his finned tail.
*Have her!* Fenrir’s telepathic voice was a howl of triumph. He pinned Lupa down with his massive bulk. *Caught the Bad Bitch!*
Callum expected Lupa to shift to hellhound form to fight, but to his surprise she stayed human. She twisted under Fenrir, struggling—and abruptly went still, staring into his burning eyes.
“You,” she breathed.
Callum dragged Diana further away, every life form shrieking in his senses. He had to get his mate to safety, but there was too much to keep track of, too much pulling at his attention.
Joe and the wendigo were a tangle of teeth and claws, the sea dragon fighting to keep the wendigo away from Lupa and Fenrir. Above, the Thunderbird had broken free from the pack at last, winging up safely into the sky. Now the hellhounds were turning, charging down, trying to come to their alpha’s aid. And Fenrir—
Fenrir was just standing there, frozen.
“No!” Callum shouted, as Lupa scrabbled out from under the hellhound. “Don’t let her get away!”
It was too late. The wendigo flung a blast of ice at Joe that made the sea dragon recoil, then ran for Lupa, snatching her up in its boney jaws. Never slowing, it disappeared into the forest. Lupa twisted, staring backwards at Fenrir, until the trees hid her from sight.
Fenrir threw back his head and howled, forlorn and lost.
Chapter 33
Min-Seo patted the matte gray side of the armored prisoner transport. “Well, we may not have got Lupa, but at least we’ve pulled her fangs. She’ll be a whole lot less dangerous without her pack at her back.”
“You’ll make sure none of them escape this time?” Callum asked.
Min-Seo wrinkled her nose, looking pained. “That was embarrassing. But at least we can learn from our mistakes. Shan won’t let any of the prisoners out of his sight until they’re all safely locked away in a high-security facility. No more demons are going to slip past us, I promise.”
Callum nodded, reassured. “And you’ll let us know what you find out from interrogating Lupa’s pack?”
“Of course. As long as you promise to share information too.” Min-Seo poked him in the ribs, making him wince. “Ooops. Sorry, forgot about the bruises. Anyway, keep in contact this time, okay?”
“Don’t worry,” Diana said, slipping her arm around his waist. She smiled at the shifter agent. “I won’t let him disappear into the wilderness again. Metaphorically or literally.”
Min-Seo beamed back at her. “You take care of this big goofball,
you hear? And as for you, Callum, don’t you dare let this one get away, or I’ll hunt you down and eat your liver.”
“I won’t.” Callum clasped her hand. “Thank you for all your help.”
Min-Seo yanked him into a hug, jarring his injuries again. “Anytime, beanpole. Don’t be a stranger.”
With a final wave, Min-Seo hopped into her car. The vehicle pulled away, closely followed by the prisoner transport.
“Come on, you.” Diana propped her shoulder under his, steering him toward the hotshot base’s infirmary. “You need to lie down before you fall down.”
Callum leaned on her gratefully. “In a minute. There’s someone I need to see first. Two someones.”
He could sense them, of course. And they could sense him in return. Callum lengthened his stride despite his weariness, heart lifting with anticipation.
Diana made a little cry of pure happiness as she caught sight of them. “Beth!”
Beth shrieked in excitement, thrashing in Conleth’s arms. To Callum’s slight surprise, Conleth knelt, putting her down. The instant he released her, Beth shifted. She charged toward her mother on four tiny hooves.
Diana laughed as Beth barreled into her. She hugged the baby pegasus tight, burying her face in Beth’s soft mane. “Oh, baby, my clever, clever baby! Look at you!”
Callum’s breath caught in his throat. He clasped Diana’s shoulder, making her glance up at him. “Yes. Look at her. Really look at her.”
On cue, Beth spread her small wings, revealing the bold markings on the underside of her feathers. She pranced, preening herself, inviting them to admire her.
Diana’s eyes widened. “Oh. Oh.”
Conleth looked between them all, his expression puzzled. “What? What is it?”
“Her markings.” Callum touched Beth’s feathers, tracing the intricate geometric shapes laid out in black, white, and red. “They’re the same as the Thunderbird’s.”
