Banewolf (Dark Siren Book 2)

by Eden Ashley

  He was giving her a choice. All she had to do was say the words, and she could have him.

  I want you.

  He had made a promise, but was willing to break it for her. Would there be guilt after? The last thing she wanted was the afterglow of their first time together to be tainted by remorse. “Give me a reason to let you go.”

  “I need to go get War.”

  She sighed, rubbing against him as she rose on tiptoe and kissed him one more time. He shuddered. “Don’t do that.” His breath came out in a ragged pant. “If I’m going to let go right now, you can’t do that.”

  “Sorry.”

  He brushed a thumb against her cheek. “Don’t be.”

  Disentangling herself from his arms was one of the hardest things Kali had done in a very long time.

  #

  Each day passed brought more of the old Kalista back to him. She was so much like herself; it was getting hard for Rhane to see her as anything but the mate he’d loved for so long. Greg Metts was a smart man. The next time Kalista had the opportunity to be with her family, he would no doubt see the change in her too. Remaining hopeful as he made his way deeper into the forest, Rhane dragged his focus back to the task at hand. Every step took him closer to Warren, but Ian’s warning was a chief concern in his mind. Rogue activity had increased in this territory.

  Even with borrowed men, patrols were still stretched thin. Rhane didn’t have the manpower to investigate what rogues were up to out in these woods, keep Kalista safe, have her trained, negotiate an alliance with the kindred, fend off attacks from Gabriel while trying to learn the fallen Prime’s motives, pursue Builders to understand what they wanted of him, and solve the riddle of the map, ledger, and key. It was a lot to do with so few resources.

  Kneeling down, he searched for tracks in the brush. There wouldn’t be many. The kindred were too good for that. Though War and Matthias should have been covering the grid closer to the manor, Rhane had yet to see any sign of them.

  He closed his senses to everything except the sounds within the forest, letting his mind project every noise into a multi-dimensional image. He filtered out anything smaller than a deer because what he looked for was much bigger. In due course, Rhane spotted something. It was big, low to the ground, and barely moving. Not good. He started out at a fast but cautious run while keeping an eye on the moving mass as he went toward it. Hairs were standing on end all over his body. And the closer he got, that unsettled feeling only intensified.

  Twenty feet from the object, Rhane stopped.

  Watching. Listening.

  Nothing.

  He sniffed the air. Blood. It was kindred. He sniffed again. A faint smell of flowers and wet garbage lingered in the atmosphere. And more blood. Not earthy like the kindred, this smell was much more unpleasant.

  Rhane crept forward.

  He found the creature camouflaged by a patch of thorns. It wasn’t obvious whether the disguise was intentional or if it was simply where the kindred had fallen after battle. It certainly hadn’t gone down without a fight. Just beyond the kindred lay several more bodies. All were rogue. Looking closer, Rhane’s gut took a sickened twist. He recognized the soldier. It was Mykelti. One of Ian’s best. He was still alive but barely. Rhane grimaced. The kindred alpha should have alerted him that the threat was this severe.

  Mykelti’s injuries were familiar. Two ragged holes marked where spears had pierced his abdomen. The wounds were most likely fatal. Shallow breaths quivered through the kindred’s chest, barely filling his lungs. Death was close. Rhane reached forward. He could help.

  Fingers just shy of touching skin, Mykelti jerked forward and clasped Rhane’s hand with the strength of an oak. His gaze was wild and unfocused. A second passed. The kindred’s eyes gradually fixated on Rhane. “Save your power.” His voice, like his grip, held a surprising amount of strength. “You will need it soon.”

  Rhane swallowed. The inside of his mouth felt like he had swallowed a pound of cotton. He knew what was coming. He could already sense it. “Where are Matthias and the boy?”

  “Get back to the manor,” Mykelti said. Then he slipped away.

  Chapter 53

  Even after reaching the manor, Rhane had a hard time believing what was in front of his eyes. Rogues were everywhere. York, Orrin, and River were all in skins, battling a ferocious horde. Ander and Matthias fought in true form. Their monstrous size towered over the cloaked demons that swarmed the manor. But the combined efforts of kindred and Warekin were not going to be enough to hold back the tide of violence.

  Rhane dove into the melee, drawing Bellefuron from between his shoulder blades. He cut through the rogues, rolling heads with one strike as he urgently searched for Kalista.

  The flames guided him. Bailen and the other kin had formed a circle around her, their bodies serving as a living barrier between her and the swarm. The few that managed to slip through Warekin teeth and claws met a destiny terminated in fire.

  York had not aptly described the skill Kalista had reacquired. Her carnage was a dance—magical, graceful, and deadly. The twin blades in her hands belonged to Warren. But she wielded the weapons expertly and without mercy. Fire underscored every blow, finishing what the blood silver of her knives had not.

  But there were too many rogues between him and Kalista. Rhane looked down at his hands. He could not reach her.

  And the kin were steadily losing ground.

  The mark became a hot iron in his palm as white fur rippled across his forearms. The ancient hunter climbed from the recesses of his mind, lunging for consciousness. Banewolf wanted to feed. It longed for blood.

  Rhane took a hard look at Orrin, York, Bailen, River, and the two kindred. He imprinted their positions in his mind, hoping to steer the wolf well away. But if he didn’t risk a transformation, they were going to lose the manor. And his friend would die.

  Out of nowhere, a deep bellow roared into the air, echoing in the surrounding forest. The ground shook in the aftershock of the challenge. Gabriel. And with him came the sound of dozens of feet moving together as one. Reapers. Hisses and groans cracked like whips as they drew closer. Many of the rogues gave pause, turning their pewter masks to face the approaching threat.

  Rhane wondered how much worse his day was about to get.

  Then Gabriel, nine feet of ugly and anger, crashed through the tree line. About thirty Reapers ran with him. They joined the battle without hesitation, attacking the rogues ruthlessly. When Gabriel unleashed his fury, no rogue could stand against him. A bloody path was cleared to Kalista in under a minute.

  Rhane couldn’t wrap his head around it. Once again, Gabriel was fighting for him—at least for the moment. Whether by order or choice, Reapers were helping too. If Rhane became Banewolf and lost control, he could end them all in seconds. He couldn’t guarantee their safety as Banewolf.

  Slowly, he reversed the changes to his body, pushing the wolf back into submission. Fully human, he made use of the opening the Reapers and Gabriel had carved, hastily moving to Kalista’s side. The tide of this battle had turned. Fewer rogues were getting through. The kin had breathing room.

  Rhane found York’s eyes over the battle. “Where’s Rion?” he called. The boy’s glaring absence had been a cause for concern since he’d arrived on scene.

  The enormous brown wolf dispatched a mouthful of Rouge before answering. Inside.

  Rhane’s gaze flew to the manor. Upstairs, a curtain moved. Not good. Plunging Bellefuron through an opponent’s chest, he took a moment to check Kalista over. Blood had stained her shirt crimson, but none of it was hers. She appeared unharmed. But the toxins had taken effect. Her eyes were unfocused, and she started to sway on her feet.

  Rhane looked at the manor again. Third floor. Something there worried him. A flash of red. A parted curtain. And then a rogue stood in the window. Long auburn hair hung from its gruesome mask. Hollow and lifeless slits stared back at him. Lara. Rhane was certain it was her.

  The rogue l
ifted a bloodied hand and beckoned to him. Then she smeared the dripping appendage against the window. Rhane’s canines elongated as he roared in answer to her challenge. Fury darkened his sight, tunneled his vision.

  He moved closer to Kalista, steadying her as she staggered. He couldn’t leave her. Looking around the field, he realized he no longer had eyes on Bailen.

  “York.” The brown wolf’s head whipped up as his warlord’s voice cut through the noise of the blood fest. Rhane switched to short whistle bursts, a form of communication only understood by other Warekin. Go help Rion.

  The murder in his expression demanded urgency. Dispatching the rogue pinned beneath his paws, York obeyed immediately. He hadn’t seen whatever had gotten Rhane so riled up. But as he charged the manor in two bounds, other senses filled him in. Something bad was happening.

  His war skin was far too large to fit through the manor door. York shed the wolf form, becoming human without breaking stride. As he barreled inside, the smell of smoke burned his nostrils. More alarming was the scent of blood that hung beneath the smoke. Rion was hurt. The boy had been cut enough times during sparring for York to recognize the unique markers in his blood. When the rogues had descended on their territory, everyone was on the grounds helping Kalista practice…everyone except Rion. He was inside, still working on the decryption program. The idea of some monster covertly maneuvering past their defenses and hurting Rion while the rest of them were so close by made York dizzy with anger.

  He concentrated on Rion’s blood, heading in the direction where the smell was the strongest. York didn’t know where exactly in the manor Rion was when the attack started. The dwelling was so large. The boy could be anywhere. A room to room search by sight alone would take far too long. Rion didn’t have that kind of time.

  The blood led York to the broom closet on the second floor. Within the closet was the entrance to a secret stairwell down to a level nonexistent on the manor’s blue prints. This third, subterranean floor also had direct access from a tunnel hidden in the nearby forest. Only the kin knew of it. Not even Ander or Matthias used that entrance.

  Pausing at the closet door, York pressed his ear against the wall and listened. His superhuman hearing picked up the sound of two heart beats. One was faint. The other was solid, strong, and much closer. York spun around and nearly jumped out of his skin at the sight of the big canine that had padded up nearly undetected.

  “Bailen, what the hell?” Reigning in his annoyance, York let out a nervous laugh. The laugh died on his lips when Bailen snarled and lunged straight at his face.

  #

  Things were looking better outside. The kin, aided by Gabriel, his Reapers and the two kindred, were winning. Kali could have giggled with relief. It had been awhile since the last rogue had gotten through River and Orrin’s teeth or Rhane’s blade. Good thing. She wasn’t sure she could lift her arms to fight anymore. Looking off to her side, Kali was surprised to find the ground so close to her face. She must have gone down without realizing it. Becoming aware of wet warmth seeping through her blue jeans, she groaned. She didn’t have to look again to know her clothing was soaking up blood from the ground. Her head grew heavy and dropped to her forearms. She wanted to get up. The kin might still need her. But she just couldn’t summon the energy to move.

  A rogue fell right next to her and Kali started in surprise. Black blood poured from slits in the pewter mask. Its throat was nearly severed in half. Kali lifted her head. The action strained her neck as if it held the weight of a bowling ball.

  Concern crinkled the pair of beautiful green eyes that suddenly peered down at her. Rhane dropped to one knee. “Kalista, it’s their blood. Rogue blood is toxic.” His eyes constantly scanned around them even as he spoke to her. “Take your shirt off.”

  Two attempts later, she managed to struggle out of the blouse. He took the nearly unrecognizable material and began wiping her face and arms. Kali guessed at what she must have looked like, envisioning a blood soaked teenager ready to kill everyone at prom.

  With most of the toxic stuff gone, her head started to clear. Rhane’s hands were still on her, probably lending some of his healing magic to help her feel better. For a second, she thought River might need his help too. But the big gash that blazed glaringly across the gray wolf’s flank disappeared as soon as his human form emerged.

  The kindred weren’t so lucky. Their injuries remained even when beasts became men again. None seemed too severe, but Matthias leaned heavily on Ander as they walked over.

  Rhane must have noticed the same thing. “Is he going to be okay?”

  Nodding, Ander shoved the smaller kindred upright. Matthias scowled at first. Then he grinned. Ander’s wild eyes drilled into Rhane. “He has a bit of flair for the dramatic.”

  Kali snickered, wondering if the kindred really had any idea of how funny they were. A smile even hinted at Rhane’s lips before he turned back to Kali. He started to pull his shirt off but stopped. Beneath the dark color, it was as bloody as hers had been.

  “Orrin, she needs cover.”

  Quickly shrugging out of his shirt, Orrin tossed it over to Rhane. Kali took the item of clothing gratefully. Long sleeves and flannel made a wonderful barrier against a chill that was setting in. Looking at Orrin with the intent to thank him, she froze. His body could have decorated every month of a yearlong calendar. Rhane smiled. “I know. It’s sickening, right?” he said as if reading her mind.

  A blush warmed her cheeks. She ducked her head to hide it. “Wow,” she muttered.

  Rhane squeezed her leg. “I need to check on Rion.”

  “What about them?” River asked, discreetly indicating Gabriel and his Reapers.

  Rhane nodded, but kept his eyes on his brother. “This is twice he’s saved my ass, isn’t it?”

  River was silent.

  Sighing heavily, Rhane pushed to his feet. “Orrin, stay with Kalista.” He took a moment to wipe Bellefuron’s blade clean and then sheathed the weapon. Several Reapers shuffled anxiously at his approach. Gabriel shrank in size, resuming Callan’s human form once more. Besides him, only three other Reapers appeared as humans—Tyler, Bentley, and Lloyd. It made sense. Gabriel no doubt had additional minions strategically placed in Kali’s life. Shannon and the three teens were no secret, so why not reveal themselves?

  Ander and Matthias hung back as the two sides faced off, making Rhane and River seem totally exposed as they approached the Reapers on their own. Kali found herself worrying about York and hoping Rion was okay. She didn’t see Bailen. That worried her too.

  “Hello, Banewolf.” It was Cal’s voice, but it was quite evident who held dominance at the moment.

  Rhane cut straight to the point. “I don’t know why you helped us just now, or why you helped save Kalista in the forest. So tell me what you want.”

  Gabriel’s red eyes shifted to where Ander and Matthias stood. “You have allied yourself with a breed our kind was sworn to destroy, treating them as friends, welcoming them as guests in your home.”

  “I don’t see how that concerns you.” Kali couldn’t see Rhane’s face, but his hard tone spoke volumes.

  “We do not have to be enemies, Banewolf.”

  “You started a war that nearly destroyed Warekin civilization. Your very nature makes you my enemy.”

  Gabriel’s eyes narrowed dangerously. “I only intended to bring change. Our people were dying for no reason. Those Builders,” he spat the word, “had created something they could not control. Because of their actions, many honorable Warekin died while we royals sat back and watched. I brought information that should have liberated us. But they turned their backs on me. War was necessary.”

  “And yet here we are. Your war changed nothing.”

  Stepping away from Rhane, a loud hiss breathed from Gabriel’s lips. “And what did you change, Banewolf?” Cal’s face glowered angrily. “You succeeded in what I didn’t. You destroyed the Warekin. You killed the very ones I tried to save.”

 
; Rhane’s hands paled as they clenched into fists. After a long moment, he relaxed. “They took something precious to me.”

  Gabriel’s entire demeanor softened. “Then you and I are on the same page.”

  “What is that supposed—”

  Kali missed the rest of the sentence because of the quiet shattering boom that permeated the air and was followed by silence. Deafened by the blast, she turned her head in the direction of the last sound she’d heard, and screamed. The manor had exploded.

  Chapter 54

  Bailen charged, not because he actually wanted to eat York’s face, but because something behind them wanted to eat York’s face. That proved to be little consolation to York as he tumbled down three flights of steps with a psychotic bitch chewing at his neck. Finally hitting bottom, he could properly take on the red demon. Between him and Bailen, the rogue didn’t stand a chance. But then an explosion rocked through the manor. An eardrum rattling, knock-your-dirty-socks-off-and-blacken-the-world blast ripped through York’s consciousness and effectively ended it.

  Coming to and not knowing how much time had passed, York took stock of the situation. Both arms and legs were still where they should have been. A good start. Ears were ringing. Vision was hazy. He could live with that. He tried to sit up but stopped with a gasp, thinking he would die from pain. “Damn it.”

  A soft whimper rose from a corner in the room. Bailen.

  York turned his head. That only hurt a little. “Hey, buddy.”

  Bailen whined again.

  “Can you come over here?” Silence. York’s heart skipped a beat. Then he heard soft padded footsteps and relaxed. A hot tongue lapped his face anxiously. York batted at the canine, surprised at how much effort such a simple action took. “You need to go.”

  The canine did something he had never done before. He communicated with actual words of the war skin language. No.