It wasn’t only the werewolves who were suddenly up in arms either. Jason Alberich, one of the most powerful wizards any coven had ever known, had been revealed as a warlock. Danny felt a hollowness in her chest when she thought about this. She and Jason had played together as children. He had never been anything but good to her.
As Lucas wound his way through the streets of a Portland suburb, Danny leaned into him from behind, let the bike’s vibration ease up into her body, and closed her eyes. She couldn’t help but go back in time.
She remembered her tenth birthday party. Lalura had never really known when Dannai had actually been born, so she’d celebrated her adopted daughter’s birthday on her own favorite day – Halloween. As luck would have it, it had turned out to be Danny’s favorite holiday as well and when she was old enough that Lalura told her to pick any day she wanted as her birthday, Danny decided to keep it as it was.
On her tenth birthday, Jason Alberich, son of their herald, presented Danny with a jack o’ lantern piñata. Only, this one was different from the store-bought kind. Its hollow eyes and mouth glowed, as they would on a real carved pumpkin. It was magic of course. Jason had always been very good with magic; it came to him naturally, especially anything involving fire.
Danny hadn’t wanted to break it open. It was so beautiful! But Jason, already taller than the other children, and already dressed in the black of his father’s office, smiled at her with his green eyes and insisted she hit it as hard as she could. So, she let him blind fold her and hand her the bat.
He was gentle when he spun her around, and she remembered now how he had leaned over and whispered in her ear. “Go for it, Danny.”
Once she was sure he was out of the way, she pulled the bat back, sent out her mental feelers, and swung with all of her might. There was a popping sound and a vibration hummed up her arms. Danny dropped the bat, ripped off the blind fold, and stared in wonder as the piñata – now cracked neatly in half and wide open – released a whirlwind of butterflies.
They were the colors of rainbows, each of them different, each of them stunningly beautiful. They glowed like fairies as they spun around the witches and wizards at the party and the younger children squealed with glee. Danny had never seen anything like it. She remembered staring up at them, her jaw dropped open, her eyes as big as saucers in her head.
And then, when the butterflies had at last begun to take up residence in the tree from which the piñata was tied, Danny chanced a glance at Jason. He’d been laughing, his green eyes shimmering, his smile genuine.
Later, he had approached her and told her that he didn’t want her to think he’d forgotten about the candy that normally goes in a piñata. “I don’t want you to think I gypped you,” he said jokingly. “So when we go Trick-or-Treating tonight, you can have my bag.”
Now Danny felt something akin to tears gathering behind her closed lids. She couldn’t believe she’d never seen it before. How could she have missed Jason’s interest in her? It had always been there. It was so obvious now.
He’d always been watching over her. She remembered him saving her from bullies once. She’d been in a private garden, having a verbal battle of wits with a group of twelve-year-old wizards who were trying to prove boys were better at magic than girls. Danny had been trying to keep her calm. She felt her magic there and she could have used it, but Lalura would have had a stroke. Seemingly just in time, Jason had appeared in the garden’s entrance, laughing his head off. “You boys have no idea what you’re dealing with,” he chuckled, shaking his head.
When they turned and attacked him with all of the petty spells they could think of using, he simply vanished. And reappeared behind them. When they turned to rush him, they found their shoelaces tied together. It had taken nothing – absolutely nothing as far as what Jason Alberich was capable of – for him to scare them off.
Danny squeezed the tears from her eyes and felt them dry on her cheeks. She hadn’t seen Jason’s interest for what it was because she hadn’t wanted to. It was as simple as that. She was a dormant, deep down in her blood. Subconsciously, she must have known that her place was with a werewolf. Not a wizard.
Not a warlock.
Behind Lucas and Danny, a second and third motorcycle kept pace. Riding them were the enforcers that the Overseer had insisted remain with each of the alphas at risk. Danny thought of them now and the fact that they were probably alpha werewolves by their own right. How were they hoping to cross the same property threshold as Lucas?
Then again, if a werewolf was renting a place, did that make it his? Or did he have to own it? She tried to remember whether hotel rooms counted as an alpha’s property – it would have been a good indication of the extent of the rule. But Lucas was an expert rider and the bike was easing away her ability to worry. To think.
So Danny let it go and simply held on tight. It was wonderful to have an excuse like this to do so. Lucas’s body was so hot. As always, he radiated heat like a furnace, and she found herself wondering what he would feel like between her –
Danny’s eyes flew open. She swallowed hard. The mark on her arm tingled as if it knew what she’d been thinking and was laughing at her. Thor help me, she thought. She was fast becoming lost to the very real, very thrilling reality that Lucas Caige would one day very soon take her to his bed. There was no avoiding it. There was no going back now. She’d been dreaming of him. He had marked her.
He always smells good. It floated through her mind on a whiff of aftershave and leather, teasing her senses and bringing her nerve endings to life. His heat protected her from the misty cold of the oncoming autumn evening. It threatened to cling to her, dampening the ends of her long black locks. But Lucas was there, a wall of heated muscle, his strong hands easily gripping and manipulating the handle bars, his black boots notching the gear shift with practiced, fluid ease. He was the epitome of manliness.
I’m dating the leader of the pack, she thought with a smile. It was true, too. She knew all about Caige’s past – where he’d come from, what he’d been before. Everyone knew. The murder of his brother was infamous.
Before coming to the states to escape the pain Australia held for him now, Lucas Caige had been the alpha of his own very impressive pack. And anyone who caught a glimpse of him in his black leather would have guessed right if they’d placed the entire pack as bikers. They were.
Now he was alone, a wild card, unpredictable and shut off. Except that he wasn’t closed off to her. He never had been.
Danny inhaled deeply, breathing in his scent until it filled her up completely and her arms tightened around the hard muscles of his trim waist. In response, she felt him cover her hands with one of his. He wore gloves, but she could still feel his warmth through the leather.
In another few minutes, the three bikes were pulling off of James Street and into the driveway of a small single-story rental across from a large park. The neighborhood didn’t look rich, but it wasn’t the hood either. It was more or less a perfect location to hole up for a few days while the Council and the different covens figured out what to do about Alberich and Phelan.
Lucas helped Danny off of the bike and then followed suit while the enforcers made their way to the front and back doors of the house in order to check for traps and scent the place out. Danny watched a muscle tick in Lucas’s jaw as he waited for the enforcers to do their jobs. He didn’t like the idea of someone else fighting his battles for him, she could tell. But he held back and played it safe.
For me, she thought. He wouldn’t be this careful if it wasn’t for me.
The first enforcer reached the front door, paused, and raised his head. Danny figured he was probably smelling the air for any sign of “bad guy.” Obviously satisfied that no bad guys had been anywhere near the house, he lowered his head and spoke into the ear piece he wore.
They’re like the secret service, she thought. Front guy was most likely talking to back guy: “I’m going in.” His hand gripped the door knob and twiste
d.
A blinding flash of light preceded the sound of the blast by a millisecond, but it was the sound that hurt the most. Danny felt it in her bones, in her core, as it ripped through her and sent her flying. She was airborne forever it seemed. And then there was another flash, like a second bolt of lightning, and Danny’s body came down on something soft. She bounced and rolled over, her eyes shut against the pain, her lungs struggling to open and take in air once again.
*****
The ground could feel like a freight train even though it wasn’t moving if you were going fast enough. Lucas felt the train connect, move through him, and crush his lungs to his spine. All sound vanished in the wake of the blast. He smelled something bitter and the damp of the earth beneath him, but nothing moved in the absolute silence for a several long moments. And then his lungs exploded outward and his head began to pound and he forced his eyes open. He was face-down on the sidewalk in front of the park. He could see the squished remains of bubble gum in the crack a few inches from his face. He counted the blades of grass pushing through another crack.
And then he forced his arms beneath him and pushed. As he did, reality came crashing in on him. All at once, he realized what had just happened. Some how, either Phelan or Alberich – or both – had learned where Danny and Lucas would be going, and they’d gotten there first.
Lucas raised his head and peered across the street toward the house he’d just been blown away from. Its smoking shell billowed angry red flames and black clouds. A body lay in the front yard. It was massive and bald and Lucas immediately recognized it as belonging to the enforcer.
He scanned the area, picking up every detail as he got his legs beneath him and shoved himself to his feet. “Danny!” he called, his voice hoarse in the slightly crushed passage of his trachea. He couldn’t see her. He spun in place, searching the tree line, the street, and the sidewalk in either direction. “Danny!”
Panic bubbled up inside of him, a fear he’d only ever known once before in his life. It was ugly, sinister, and slimy. It reeked of adrenaline and cortisol and darkness. A bomb had just detonated. He and his mate had been trapped in its wake.
Where was she? He felt the inside pocket of his leather jacket, checking for his phone. His mind was split in two directions; he needed to call the Overseer. But the phone was crushed; he could feel its dead, cracked weight beneath his palm.
“Danny!” he bellowed at the top of his sore lungs.
And then it drifted toward him – the softest, sweetest, most promising scent he’d ever smelled. It was the scent of magic, faint but there. Danny’s dormancy shield. He held tight to it and followed it, breaking into a run through the trees behind him and into the leaf-strewn clearing of the park. She was laying on her side, her long black hair fanned out around her like a silken halo. She wasn’t moving, but he could see her chest slowly rise and fall – she was alive.
Of course, he thought as he sprinted across the grass and leaves and slid into place beside her. Her shield would have fallen if she were dead. He knew she was strong enough to wear it even while unconscious; it wasn’t the first time she had done so. But nothing remained when a person died.
“Danny,” he whispered as he placed his fingers to her throat – just to make sure. Her pulse was there, strong and even. He carefully rolled her onto her back and looked her over. There was a rip in her jeans across her thigh, but the smooth, tanned skin was intact beneath it. Her long-sleeved thermal shirt hugged her trim waist and perfect breasts, and seemed to be completely undamaged by the blast. The only other sign that she’d been in its wake was the smoky smudge across her left cheek.
Lucas gently pulled her into his lap, resting her head against his thigh. “Danny, baby, answer me,” he said, cupping her face in his hand and brushing his thumb across her cheek bone. If she had a concussion, she could heal herself, but she would need to wake up and concentrate to do so.
“Baby girl,” he whispered, brushing her hair from her forehead. “Wake up, Danny.”
Danny’s long lashes fluttered and her eyes blinked open. Her lips parted and she exhaled, moaning softly with the effort.
Lucas peered into her kaleidoscope eyes and looked for any sign of concussion. But her pupils were the same size and they were focused on him. “You okay?” he asked, wondering if anything was broken.
It was a few seconds before she replied, but finally she licked her lips, blinked, and nodded. “Yeah,” she said. “What happened?”
“I’m guessing Phelan happened,” he said, nearly spitting the name out. “He would know the enforcers would open the door first. Either he was trying to scare us or prove a point, or get rid of our extra guard. In which case, we need to move.” He couldn’t call for help and Danny didn’t seem to have a phone on her. He needed to get them somewhere far away and then find another phone. Or let Danny use her magic. But not here and not now. They needed to get out fast.
He began to stand, pulling her gently up with him. Then he bent to lift her into his arms and carry her, but she shook her head and gently shoved his hands away. “No,” she said. “I can walk. Let me walk.”
Lucas considered her a moment. She swayed for just a second and then straightened, standing strong on her own two feet. Obviously, she wanted to feel the ground solid beneath her. He could understand that. It helped clear away the dizziness. “Okay,” he said, still watching her carefully. “Give me your hand.”
He took her hand in his and turned to face the smoldering house across the street. If any of the three bikes were still in working condition, he was going to put Danny right back on it and drive her the hell out of here.
Lucas hurried back across the street, pulling Danny close behind him. She kept up well enough and when he pulled up one of the fallen bikes and began checking it over, she stood off to one side, her gaze locked on the fallen enforcer in the yard, her arms wrapped around herself. He glanced up at her, back at the dead werewolf, and lowered his head. A normal blast wouldn’t have taken out an enforcer. It would have hobbled him and possibly even scarred him where the fire was concerned. But it wouldn’t have killed him.
This explosive was made by someone who knew exactly how to kill a werewolf. Lucas had dealt with these kinds of bombs before. It had “Hunter” written all over it, which only served to back up his guess that Phelan was behind it. Humans had been hunting and killing werewolves for hundreds, if not thousands, of years. These humans believed that werewolves were nothing short of demons and purely, unequivocally evil. These humans were called Hunters. And they had a leader.
Unbeknownst to them, their very leader was no other than the most notorious, truly evil werewolf in existence – Gabriel Phelan. It goes to show what humans know, Lucas thought morbidly. And it was a nice, pretty notch on the bedpost of irony.
The bike was in working order. Strike a point for the good guys. Lucas stood, waved Danny over, and got on the bike. She got on behind him, and once she’d wrapped her arms tightly around him, he started it up and pulled out of the driveway.
Chapter Fifteen: “The Knife Trick”
Danny felt hands on her arms, lifting her gently. She still couldn’t breathe and panic began to set in like a flash. But then she felt a weight press gently to her chest, followed by a cold tingling that infused her skin, bone and muscle, seeping into her lungs. A second later, her lungs relaxed, opened up, and she drew in gulps of air.
She forced her eyes open only to be greeted by a blurred, over-bright world.
“Shh,” came a deep voice. “Give it a moment.”
It was Jason’s voice.
Danny froze, her heart hammering, her lungs still greedily sucking in life-bringing oxygen. In fact, she thought she might hyperventilate. But confusion was wreaking havoc on her senses. Up and down were skewed, past and present were mingled, and all she could see was the enforcer’s hand turning the doorknob on the house’s front door.
“You’re okay,” Jason told her.
Danny shut her eyes tight
and considered using magic to heal herself. But she didn’t feel damaged. In fact, she felt absolutely fine other than the blurriness.
“It will pass,” Jason said. “Open your eyes, Danny.”
Trying desperately to control both her breathing and her heart rate, Danny licked her lips and forced her eyes open once more. This time was a little better. She could make out Jason’s dark outline – and the flickering of torches along a wall. She blinked a few times and they came into focus. As did Jason.
“Where am I?” she asked, feeling the softness of a mattress and what felt like crushed velvet beneath her. “Where is Lucas?” She glanced around, and now that she could see, she realized she was in a room she’d never been in before. It was vast and dark and lit by fire. Torches lined the room in sconces, the walls were carved stone, and there were only two pieces of furniture. One was a chest. The other was a four poster bed.
Danny bolted into a sitting position, shoving Jason back out of the way. He moved back, allowing her room. “Where the hell am I?” she demanded, yelling now. “What happened to Lucas? What did you do, Jason?” She scrambled to the edge of the bed and watched Jason warily as he slowly stood, his expression unreadable.
Danny shot off of the bed and gained her feet, wondering how the hell she could be in one piece, much less feeling as fine as she was, after a blast like that. She knew it must have killed the enforcer. She swallowed hard as she thought of Lucas and how far away they were from the house when the bomb had gone off.
The Spell Page 17
