by Mason Sabre
“Okay then.” He released her wrists from his vice-like grip, and slowly raised his hands to show her he meant no harm. “We didn’t kill Andy.”
“You did,” she said forlornly. “The moment you forced him to talk.” She turned and walked a few feet away from them both, leaving them to both stare at her rigid back.
This was getting them nowhere, Stephen thought frustratedly, and Raven’s soft oath from beside him told him he felt the same. They needed to find Phoenix and Gemma and Cade. His tiger rose inside him, his eyes flashing gold as it demanded to be let out. Blood pumping through his veins with ferocity, he stormed to the car and sliced through the rope that still held Andy in place with his claws.
“See?” she said. “You're literally going to take him and dump him on the side of the road. Doesn’t he even get a burial?”
“My sister is pregnant. Do you know that?” Stephen ground out. “You accuse me of only looking out for my own? Damn fucking right. But not because we are Society ... not because we are some evil gathering … but because she is my sister … my family. You have a family. You would do the same.”
“Do I?” She raised her eyebrows at him.
“To have the powers you do, then yes.” That was the way it was with witches. Away from their families and their covens, they grew weaker, their powers faded. They had to have a connection.
Raven was staring at her and she shifted uneasily under his intense gaze. “You were Human, weren’t you?” he said, coming closer. “That is why your eyes shimmer the way they do. That’s why your power is strong.” Stephen’s head whipped around, and his gaze focused on her.
“You don’t know what you're talking about,” she denied huskily, moving back.
He continued as if she hadn’t spoken. “That’s why your powers are strong, like Phoenix’s. That’s it, isn’t it?” He walked her backwards as he spoke, backing her all the way up to the side of the car. His large frame dwarfed hers, and her breathing quickened as he leaned in close. She gasped when he reached out and caught hold of her forearm, pushing her sleeve up to expose her scarred wrist. Old welts and puckered skin marred her otherwise perfect flesh. “They took you, didn’t they?”
Anika yanked her arm back, breathing heavily. “It’s none of your business,” she croaked, refusing to break his gaze.
“Help us find the boy,” he urged her softly.
She swallowed hard. “No one helped me …” she whispered. “No one came. No one. I was six years old ... just six ... riding my bike …” Her voice rose with emotion. “Do you know what that is like? I was riding my damn bike to school. That was all. Then this van sided up next to me … the doors opened and lifted me clean off my bike. I …” She paused for breath. “I screamed, you know? Kicked and fought and shouted for someone to help. No one came. They robbed me of my family … of my life. I can't even remember what my name was.”
“I’m sorry,” Raven said softly, but her gaze hardened at his words and she pushed against his hard chest. He let her shove him back, and he stepped away.
“Don’t pity me. Don’t you even dare.”
“He has a tattoo, too,” Stephen said suddenly, and both Raven and the witch turned to look at him. Anika’s lips parted, her shock at this revelation evident.
“Help us,” Raven said, his eyes on her again. “He is just a boy. No one came for you. No one came for Andy. But there’s still hope for Phoenix. He’s just a kid ... a good kid.
She hesitated, uncertainty flashing in her eyes, “What then?” she asked. “When I have told you everything and they have marked me down as a traitor like Andy, what happens next? Will you come for me then? Will you risk your life to help me?” She glanced past Raven to Stephen. “Or will you dump me at the side of the road and leave me there?”
Raven held his hand out towards her, the sleeve of his shirt rising to reveal scars and tattoos. “I won’t let them hurt you.”
She snorted, but her eyes shone suddenly with something close to hope. She bit her lip. “You can't promise that.”
“No, but I can promise you my loyalty.” He took a step and closed the distance between them. “Trust me,” he said, holding his hand out to her. “Help us.”
Anika shuffled from one foot to the other. Stephen half expected her to tell them both where they could go, but she raised her gaze to Raven’s and swallowed.
“I won’t let them hurt you,” he repeated softly.
She stared at him for a long moment then reached for his hand.
Chapter Twenty-Two
The coldness of the icy water was a shock to Cade’s nervous system. Every muscle in his body went rigid as he sank into its freezing depths. The cloth sack over his head was plastered to his face, covering his mouth and nose and rendering him blind. He barely managed to suck in a breath before the water swallowed him whole in less than a second.
His instinct and reflexes kicking in, he held onto the last, small breath that he had taken, fighting the sense of panic that surged to the surface. It wasn’t that he was afraid to die, but dying meant that Gemma and his child were left unprotected, that he couldn’t go back and save them.
Straining against his bonds, he struggled not to expel the last precious breath deep down in his lungs. He kicked at the water desperately, finding only empty space. There was no bottom, no ground beneath his feet so that he could launch himself back up. He kicked hard, but the surface seemed to never come. With the ferocity of a man who refused to accept this as his fate, he kicked hard. He wasn’t ready to die yet. No fucking way. His lungs burnt in his chest from the effort of trying to hold in his breath as he fought to cling onto his life.
His wolf floundered, weak and poisoned and weighed down by the remnants of the silver. Barely able to lift its head, it fought desperately to come to the aid of its master.
Cade kicked and thrashed, his body twisting and fighting his bonds as the seconds ticked by, and with them, the need for oxygen grew. Fuck. He wasn’t going to die this way. Life thundered through his veins as he strained against the rope that held his hands firmly in place behind his back.
He wouldn’t give up.
Not today.
He called to his wolf, demanded that he come to him. This wasn’t how they were going to end. Patterson was not going to win. Images of Gemma flashed through his mind. That was all that kept him going. He couldn’t die—he had to get to his mate. He had to save her and his unborn child. Cade pulled at the cords around his wrists again. The Humans had entwined silver in the threads and they burnt his flesh each time he pulled. He gritted his teeth, unable to expel the pain from his body by shouting out, much as he needed to.
This wasn’t going to be the end. Fuck the Humans and all their shit. His legs never ceasing their kicking, he focused on breaking the surface. The water couldn’t be that deep, he thought. He kicked and twisted and pushed, and just when he thought he couldn’t hold on any longer, his head broke the surface with a rush of cold air.
He tried to suck in air, but the bag over his head clung to his skin, creating a watertight vacuum around his head that he couldn’t breathe through. With great difficulty, he made himself tread water and stay afloat while his mind bordered on some kind of panic.
He couldn’t breathe.
He cleared his mind and kept his legs moving. Feeling he was about to pass out from the lack of oxygen, he opened his mouth for air. The momentary loss of focus on his legs caused his weight to pull him down again. He hastily thrust his head back to keep his face out of the water, but water sloshed over him and splashed into his mouth. He swallowed it down, forcing himself not to choke on it. Calm … he needed to calm. That was the only way.
His wolf was pushing for release, and Cade called to him. He couldn’t shift fully—it would rip them both apart because his arms were tied behind his back. It would rip the wolf’s chest in two. But he called the wolf in, the comfort of fur under his skin a welcome feeling. His bones began to move and Cade breathed in slowly, sucking air in as
best he could through the wet cloth and then pausing when the water splashed over his face. His legs ached from the effort of treading water, his body begging him to stop and let go. But there was no way.
The bones in his hands moved and reformed as he focused all his energy on shifting only specific parts of his body. He knew once his shift began, he wasn’t going to be able to stop it, but maybe he could control it and not kill himself and his wolf all in one go. His hands morphed into paws. Wait … wait … he pleaded with his wolf. His paws were slimmer than his hands when they were fully shifted, and he pulled, ignoring the pain of the silver as it tore at him. His paw slid out of the rope and he pulled his arms around front. They were stiff and ached, his shoulders in agony from being stuck in one position.
He had to move fast now … the wolf was there, ready. He clawed and scratched at the fabric covering his face to free himself, catching the naked skin underneath. Gasping, he gulped in lungfuls of cool air when he had removed the barrier. The water engulfed him again for a moment before he resurfaced spluttering and coughing.
Cade fumbled with the leather belt of his jeans—the wolf was fighting to take over. He slashed through it with his claws, gritting his teeth as he sliced through skin at the same time. Blood pooled around him in the water, the sight spurring his wolf on. His bones twisted and reshaped until man turned into wolf—whole, breathing and alive.
Near the edge of the water stood a building which, despite clearly being a new construction, very much resembled a castle from old. He paddled to the side of the edifice, his movements quiet and his senses keen. The water at the side was deep, and Cade knew that it ran to the lakes—they were way up in the hills. Trash bobbed on the water’s surface, waste Humans threw out, not caring about the devastation they wreaked on nature. They polluted all that was beautiful, destroyed all that nature created.
Cade swam to the wall and then around it to where metal rungs fixed into the brickwork of the building served as steps. They led up to a high wall, where Cade could make out a gap to climb through. They were made for man, not wolf, and especially not for one so exhausted and weak from being poisoned with silver. Paddling with his hind legs, he tried to give himself the momentum to wrap his front paw around the first rung, but he missed, sending him under the cold water again.
He swore and tried once more to lunge for the rusty metal. When his paw slipped again, he realised this was not going to work. He needed fingers and hands. Backing away, he glided through the rubbish and against the current until he came to an embankment. But unlike a shore, the water didn’t get shallower when he reached the edge. This lake had been purposely altered—deep troughs had been dug out and then filled with water.
With single-minded determination, Cade made his way to the edge and dug his claws into the mud and earth. The flow of the water pushed his body sideways, making him curl his claws in a desperate attempt to hold on. His body twisted at a strange angle, his shoulder dangerously close to popping out from the warped contortion. He swallowed down the excruciating pain and held on, focusing on his objective. She was in there—Gemma, his baby, and now Phoenix.
He had scented him there. His whole fucking life was in that building and they needed him to save them. He bared his teeth, upper lip curled back with a growl. With a mighty push, he rose and dug his other paw into the earth and pulled against the current.
He pulled himself up and lay on the mud panting for a moment. The silver was still coursing through his veins and the rope remained tied around one paw, but he was too exhausted to shake it off just now. He was too exhausted to move, but he had to.
Come on …. he scolded himself. Come on. He had to get up. He had to keep fighting. These fucking Humans weren’t going to take everything from him. He would die before that happened. If he had to kill them all, then that’s what he would do.
He closed his eyes and visualised the energy around him coming into his body and pushing him on. He searched for the man in his mind, ready to take over and let the wolf rest. The shift began and he exhaled heavily. In a matter of minutes, he lay panting, naked and cold on the ground. His limbs ached in ways he couldn’t describe, and his flesh stung from where the silver had touched him. His skin was red raw and his stomach was marred with claw marks from where he had slashed at his belt. His face stung and he knew that he had clawed there, too.
It didn’t matter. They would heal.
Cade stared at the water—there was no chance of getting his clothes back now. They were long gone, carried away by the current somewhere. Around him, the walls to the building burrowed into the earth, but there was nothing on them that he could reach—no low windows, no doors. The closest opening had to be at least twenty feet up, and there was no way he was getting to that. To one side, the ground had been dug away and it led to an opening that resembled a barn over the water—a boating shed, perhaps? Cade stumbled to his feet, stiff, tired legs making walking an ordeal. Every step was murder, but the thought of Gemma kept him moving.
He reached where the ground dipped. The water had eaten away at it, creating some kind of fissure in the earth that ran to the inside of the boat shed. This must be where they came in, but there was no water there now, just damp and dark, muddy sand. Cade slid down to it, his bare feet sinking into the mud. He leaned to the side, hands out. Even the earth that created the walls was soft and wet.
He kept moving, trudging towards the shed. Every time he pulled his feet up out of the mud, the ground tried to suck him in with each movement. He pulled himself to the shed, almost crawling, bits of stone and wood scratching against his naked skin. The earth was so wet that in places, he’d sink into the mud and sand to his knees.
There was a platform in the shed, high up from where he stood, and posts for them to tie boats to. There was one small boat, the kind that was used for fishing. It lay on its side on the dry earth devoid of water. Cade pulled himself around it and climbed inside. A box at the back held plastic trousers and a hooded jacket. They were almost three sizes too big for him—made for a greedy self-gratifying Human—but he pulled them on anyway. They were cold against his skin, clinging to his flesh. There were no shoes or boots, though. He pulled the chord at the elastic waistband to hold the pants in place. It was as he was fastening the pants that he saw her under the platform, where the supports had been wedged into the mud. A girl—a very young girl.
Instinct told Cade that this was just another like the girl Stephen had found in the river. She looked to be about ten years old … if that. Her dark hair was matted and tangled with sand and seaweed. Anger surged in him as he stared at her lifeless form. The glassy dead eyes that stared back at him would never see life again, never laugh and fill with joy. Leaving her there felt wrong, going against everything inside him. “I’m sorry,” he whispered quietly.
He climbed out of the boat and didn’t look at her again as he made his way to the ladder that led up to the platform.
The boat shed didn’t have any doors to the main building. On the other side, however, stood big double doors that were large enough to drive cars through, but the space where a car would have parked was empty. There was a small door beside that, but the light between the slats told Cade that they just led to the outside. It was the only way to go, though.
As he got closer to it, he heard movement on the other side. Cade cursed silently. The boating shed had nowhere to hide. He crept to the wall next to the door and pressed himself against it, listening. There were no voices, no other sounds, just the rustling sounds of someone moving. The handle turned slowly, and Cade prepared to leap.
The door opened and Cade launched himself onto whomever it was before they knew he was there.
Chapter Twenty-Three
Stephen braced himself as Cade dove for him. Instinct warned him that his friend’s state of mind was tenuous in that moment, his wolf more present than the man. He didn’t try to fight him—instead, he took the brunt of Cade’s weight and landed hard on the ground. Cade’s hand shot ou
t and wrapped itself around Stephen’s throat, a wildness shining brightly in his eyes.
“Cade …” he rasped, grabbing onto his wrist. “It’s me.”
There was a moment’s incomprehension before the haze slowly lifted from Cade’s gaze and a flicker of recognition flashed in its blue depths.
Cade blinked hard and stared at the man he was choking. “Shit.” He snatched his hand away and quickly shot to his feet.
Coughing, Stephen sat up abruptly and sucked in deep breaths.
“Shit … are you okay?”
Stephen glanced up at him, his breathing still heavy, and eyed the nervous energy rolling off Cade in waves. “The question is, mate,” he choked out, “are you okay?”
Cade’s hands shook as he ran them through his short hair in such a characteristic fashion. Images of Gemma danced through his mind, pictures of her bound and helpless as those filthy Humans abused and tortured her making him go out of his mind.
An old, dilapidated mill stood a little distance away. The paint that had once been white was now streaked with orange where the frames had rusted over the years. Without another word to Stephen, he turned and started towards the mill. They had to be in there— they hadn't gone far when they had bagged his head, loaded him onto the trolley and then dumped him into the lake.
“There's no one in there,” Stephen called out behind him, but Cade wasn’t listening. He needed to get in there. His mate was in danger.
Stephen raced behind Cade as he sprinted to the mill. When he reached the old building, Stephen was next to him. He grabbed Cade’s arm to stop him, but he jerked it free with a growl and yanked open the large wooden door. It cracked open on old hinges and swung out awkwardly.
Gemma’s scent spilled out, tugging inside his chest and making his wolf go crazy. The stench of Humans twisted Cade’s gut and his eyes turned wolf as he flew to the open door in the back. He tore down the stairs, his instincts leading the way.
