Grave Threat: Grant Wolves Book 3

by Lori Drake

  “We’re going home, love.” Adelaide took his arm and guided him over to the dresser, where Joey was quietly opening drawers and rifling through them for shirts, trousers, and socks. “Come on, let’s get you ready.”

  “Home?” Chris said, looking around in earnest bewilderment. “But I am home… oh, and now you’re all here too! That’s great. We can be together again.”

  Joey turned from the dresser and pressed clothes into his hands, then took his face between her hands. Her eyes sought his in the pale moonlight. “That’s right, baby. We’re together again. Just focus on that and get dressed.”

  Chris did as she asked, but overheard a whispered exchange behind him.

  “Is there anything you can do?” Adelaide asked.

  “Not here,” Cathy said. “Not now. We can’t risk it.”

  When he finished dressing, Chris sought out Joey again. She’d located his shoes and brought them to him.

  “Let me help.” She knelt, urged his feet into his sneakers, and tied his laces for him.

  “Why do I need shoes? You shouldn’t be out of your rooms. Can’t we do this in the morning?” Chris asked.

  “No, sweetie. We have to do it now. Come on,” Joey said, guiding him toward the door.

  They herded him into the hall and toward the stairs. Chris couldn’t shake a feeling of wrongness. He shouldn’t be out of his room. “Stop,” he said, no longer trying to be quiet. “I need to go back.”

  “Shh, it’s okay,” Joey said, stroking his arm. “Everything’s going to be okay. I promise.”

  “No, you don’t understand. Please—”

  A glowing net of energy flew toward his face. He jerked back but failed to dodge. His skin tingled where it touched, but there didn’t seem to be any harm done. But when he spoke again, or tried to, no sound issued forth. His eyes widened as he realized what’d happened. Cathy had silenced him.

  Joey towed him farther down the hall, whispering soothing words, but his panic only escalated. The master would not be pleased. The idea of disappointing his master filled him with despair that ate at his insides. It wasn’t too late. He turned abruptly and broke away from them, running back to his door.

  “Chris, wait!” Joey’s whisper followed him, but he didn’t stop. Swift footsteps followed in his wake. He nearly reached the door before someone grabbed him from behind and brought him up short.

  He struggled against the strong arms that held him, to no avail, his silenced pleas for them to let him go garnering no results as they half carried and half dragged him toward the stairs.

  “Be careful!” Joey said, a soft growl accompanying the words. “Don’t hurt him.”

  “Should we tranq him?” someone whispered.

  “No,” Joey said. “We only have one dose, and we need it for Eric.”

  23

  The moment Joey realized her worst nightmare had become reality, she shoved the fear and panic into a deep, dark corner of her mind and slammed the door. Chris’s obstinance was troubling, but she couldn’t dwell on it. Time wasn’t an unlimited resource, and right then, nothing else mattered but getting everyone out of this place.

  Part of her had hoped that once they rescued Adelaide she’d take the lead, but it hadn’t come to pass. Joey’s mother was deferring to her, letting her finish what she started. Succeed or fail, it was all on Joey’s shoulders. It was a weight she didn’t particularly want to bear, but right now, her wants were secondary.

  By the time they reached the meeting point downstairs, Jessica’s group was already there. Relief flooded Joey when she saw Dean with them. Leaving Chris in Ben and Justin’s capable hands, she hurried over to her friend and gave him a hug.

  “Are you okay?” she asked, pulling back to search his eyes for some sign that he wasn’t himself.

  Dean nodded, though his features were pinched in obvious pain. Joey loosened her hold on him and stepped back, realizing one of his arms was in a sling. She wanted to ask about it, but decided it could wait.

  “Have you seen Eric?” she asked.

  “I’ve never actually met Eric, but Roger knows where he is,” Dean said.

  Joey nodded. “Right. Okay, everyone follow Dean.”

  Dean led them back up the stairs and into the section of the house where Chris and Adelaide had been locked up. As they rounded a corner, he stopped and Joey bumped into him from behind.

  “What’s…” She spotted a woman in the dark hallway. “Oh.”

  The woman stood stock-still, staring at them wide-eyed. Then she turned and ran.

  “Shit!” Joey exclaimed, nudging Dean aside to step forward instinctively, but thought better of it and stopped. She threw up an arm to halt Sam as he started to move around her in pursuit. “Wait!”

  “She’s going to get help,” Sam whispered.

  “I know, but if we raise a ruckus now, they’ll come spilling out of every room. We’ll be surrounded.” Joey looked to Dean. “How close are we to Eric’s room?”

  Dean pointed. “Second door on the left.”

  “Great,” Joey said. “Let’s grab Eric and get the fuck out of here.”

  Justin shifted his hold on Chris and pulled a syringe out of his pocket, holding it aloft. Jessica snatched it from him and strode for Eric’s door with Lucy and Sam on her heels. Joey hurried to catch up. Eric’s door was unlocked and swung open freely. His Royal Douchebag was fast asleep, only waking when Jessica shoved the needle into his neck and depressed the plunger.

  “Hey!” He jerked away from her, then threw back the covers and was on his feet in a flash. Fortunately, he wasn’t naked, but wore nothing more than boxers. “What the hell are you doing here? And what did you do?” He touched his neck, glaring at all of them.

  Jessica folded her arms, the now-empty syringe still tucked between her fingers. “Making sure you get what you deserve.”

  Lucy plucked a discarded shirt from the floor and tossed it at him.

  He caught it before it hit him in the face and put it on, eyes glinting with anger in the darkness. “What’s that supposed to mean?”

  “It means your days of kidnapping and murdering are rapidly drawing to a close,” Joey said.

  “How are you even here? I threw you off a fucking mountain.”

  Joey stepped closer to him, stopping just outside arm’s reach. Part of her wanted him to make a move so she’d have an excuse to put him on his ass, but she couldn’t afford to wake the house. “I’m resilient. Now put your pants on before your tiny, shriveled dick falls off. It’s cold outside.”

  Eric’s hands clenched into fists at his sides, but he took the pants Lucy held out and started to put them on. He only got one leg in before the effects of the powerful tranquilizers began taking effect. From the looks of it, they hit him like a freight train. He listed to one side, stumbled over his pants, and fell to the floor with a heavy thud. Joey winced over the noise.

  “What was in— What did you— Whoa, sparkles.” Eric’s eyes rolled back in his head, and he went limp.

  Joey nudged him with the toe of her sneakers. “That was fast. Get his pants on and let’s get out of here.”

  “Does it really matter?” Jessica asked, eyeing her former Alpha’s prone form with obvious disdain.

  “Yes. We’re the good guys, remember? Hurry, we need to get moving,” Joey said, then stalked for the door.

  The rest of the group waited in the hall, alert and wary as they waited. Maybe she should’ve sent them outside to wait, but keeping everyone together had seemed like the right call at the time. Some of the fight seemed to have gone out of Chris. Shoulders slumped, he hung his head as Justin and Ben dragged him along. Seeing him like that pinched Joey’s heart, but he’d thank her later. At least, she hoped so. If Cathy couldn’t undo what had been done to him, Joey didn’t know what she’d do. Panic tried to claw its way back out of the hole she’d thrown it in, but she forced herself to take deep breaths and kept pushing forward.

  Focus, Joey.

  When Jessica,
Lucy, and Sam filed out of the room with the unconscious Eric over Sam’s shoulder, everyone headed for the stairs. They moved more swiftly now, aware that if they didn’t hustle, they weren’t liable to get much farther before the cultists mounted some sort of defense. Joey just wanted to get outside. If it came down to a fight, she didn’t want it to be in a confined space, and the moonlight, even first-quarter moonlight, would give the wolves an edge.

  They escaped the house, footfalls heavy on the porch as they flowed down it and gained the front yard. Joey’s wolf howled in triumph, but her human half wasn’t ready to celebrate. She’d celebrate when they were free of this creepy place, when Chris was himself again, when time and distance made it just another story to tell at pack mixers. Sucking in a deep breath of the crisp night air, Joey jogged along beside Justin and Ben as they lagged behind, towing a struggling Chris with them.

  A booming voice came from behind them. “Halt!”

  Joey looked back. A man—Madrigal?—came down the porch steps, glowing like a beacon of mystical energy. The gate was still another fifty yards off.

  “Keep going! Hurry!” Joey called, but slowed her footsteps and turned to face the house. Her mind raced, searching for a solution. They were running out of time. She needed to stall the witch, somehow.

  “Joey, what are you doing? Come on!” Sam called to her.

  Joey tossed a commanding look over her shoulder. “Go! Get them out, now!”

  She turned back in time to see the witch raise a glowing fist in the air, then slam it down on the ground. A ripple of energy shot toward her, growing wider as it rolled along the ground.

  Joey slapped a hand over the bracelet Cathy had given her. “Clipeum!” A shield sprang up around her like a sheer curtain of golden light. The incoming spell parted around the shield when it reached her, but continued to either side. Joey spun and watched as it swiftly caught up with her people and sent them sprawling like bowling pins. No one appeared to be injured, but some were quicker to rise than others. Chris was among the quickest, breaking free of Justin and Ben while he had the chance and bolting for the house.

  “Chris, no! Come back!” Joey called after him, her stomach sinking.

  He didn’t so much as glance in her direction as he ran past. Growling, she sprinted after him.

  Chris bolted across the front yard toward Marc, panic fueling his sprint. He had to get back, had to explain that this wasn’t his idea, that he didn’t want to go. Behind him, his family and friends cried out for him to stop, but they didn’t understand. They were his past, and this was his future. He belonged here. He needed to be here, needed this man and his peaceful serenity like oxygen. He wouldn’t survive without it.

  Others came out of the house and fanned out around the master. When he’d seen Karina in the hall, he knew she’d go for help. She was there now, too, as were Shawna, Rob, Astrid, and several others he recognized but didn’t know by name. It hardly mattered. They were his family now.

  He was within twenty feet of them when Joey caught his arm and spun him around. He swung a fist instinctively, but she ducked, and the swing passed harmlessly over her head.

  Her eyes sought his. “Chris, it’s me. It’s Joey.”

  He opened his mouth, but they’d stolen his ability to reply. Anger swelled within his chest, and he charged her with a silent battle cry.

  She darted nimbly aside. “Come on, baby. I’m not your enemy.”

  Chris’s resolve wavered. What was he doing? He loved Joey. Why was he trying to hurt her? They circled each other.

  “He’s in your head,” she said. “He’s using magic to influence your thoughts, your feelings. But what we have is deeper than that. It’s still there, Chris. Can’t you feel it?”

  He did feel it. He loved her. He knew that as sure as he knew the position of the waxing moon in the sky. And yet… His eyes slid past her, finding Marc. Chris lost track of what he was thinking. He stumbled, dropping to one knee.

  Joey came closer, reaching for him. “Chris?”

  Chris grasped a handful of dry earth and grass and flung it in her face. She recoiled, sputtering and momentarily blinded. He knew her weakness, knew what he had to do to make her stop. He sprang forward and drove his shoulder into her wounded stomach.

  Joey went sprawling in the dirt. “Chris,” she wheezed, curling around her midsection.

  He turned and ran for the house without a second glance, sinking to his knees at Marc’s feet. He tried to beg for forgiveness, but the old witch’s stupid spell was still in effect. Marc laid a hand on his head, and the net of silence snapped with an audible pop.

  Chris bowed his head, eyes fixed on the ground. The words came out in a rush. “I’m sorry, master. I didn’t want to go. Please forgive me.”

  Marc dropped his hand from Chris’s head and tilted his chin up. “I know, my wolf. Rise, and stand with us.”

  Chris rolled to his feet and slid between Marc and Karina, glancing at her as her fingers laced with his. She gave him an encouraging smile, and he nodded to her before looking across at the ones who’d tried to steal him away. Adelaide and Ben had rushed to Joey’s side, but Joey swatted Ben’s hands away when he tried to touch her stomach and struggled to her feet.

  Marc lifted his voice to carry across the distance. “Interlopers. This is private property, and by the law of the fine state of Nevada, I am within my rights to defend my home and family against intruders. Leave now, and no harm will come to you. You can even take the saggy old she-wolf and the medium with you, with my compliments.”

  Joey and Adelaide stalked forward, crossing about half the distance between the two groups.

  “It’ll be a cold day in hell before I leave my son with you,” Adelaide said, her voice tight.

  Marc turned to Chris. “Do you want to leave, Christopher?”

  The very notion turned his insides liquid. “No,” Chris said, shaking his head for emphasis. “No, this is where I belong.”

  Marc smirked at the group. “You heard him. He doesn’t want to go with you, so I’ll ask you one more time: please leave in peace.”

  “That’s because you brainwashed him, you psychopath!” Joey called. One hand was pressed against her stomach while the other curled into a fist at her side. “Chris, please! This isn’t you. There must be some part of you that still knows it. You’re so strong, the strongest person I know. You have to keep fighting.”

  Chris held his tongue. He knew how much they cared for his words. They’d silenced him, after all.

  “Pathetic,” Marc murmured. “Astrid, Robin, show these riffraff the door.”

  Astrid stepped forward. “With pleasure, master.” A magical glow sprang up around her and she gestured with her arms, making a flowing movement that reminded Chris of tai chi.

  The air stirred, and when she thrust her hands outward, a sharp wind blew forward. Chris could feel it at his back, tugging at his clothes, and it knocked Adelaide, Joey, and Ben to the ground. Most of the others behind them braced themselves against the phantom gust and remained on their feet.

  Rob broke rank and moved beside Astrid. Flame danced between his fingertips. He squatted and placed his hand against the ground. Fire spread around his hand and shot forward, rushing past Joey, Ben, and Adelaide to head for the group behind them. Cathy and Naomi strode to the front, both wreathed in golden light.

  “Naomi?” Marc’s astonishment was plain in his voice and on his face.

  “Betrayer,” Karina said. The word dripped with hate, and in that moment, Chris hated Naomi too. How dare she turn against them?

  “Betrayer,” Chris said, and the word rippled through the master’s followers, affirming their consensus.

  The fire spread across the ground until it was a fiery wall, but before it could sweep through the enemy ranks, it terminated abruptly, fetching up against an invisible barrier. Chris’s sharp eyes detected a glimmer of runes in the air from afar.

  A howl pierced the night, and the wolves behind the barrier began t
hrowing off their clothing and shifting forms. Chris’s wolf itched to join them. Not necessarily to fight, but to run, to hunt. Pack called to pack, but he resisted and stuck close to Marc’s side as the others around him stepped forward, some to join in the spell casting, others to shed their clothes and change forms. One transformed into a sleek black jungle cat, while another became an arctic wolf, her pure white fur glowing in the moonlight.

  “Kill them all!” Marc commanded, and his forces attacked.

  Chris stepped forward to join them, reaching for his shirt in preparation to shift, but Karina’s fingers tightened and held him back.

  “Not you,” she said. “Protect the master.”

  24

  Joey had never wanted to know what it was like to be in the middle of a spell-slinging shootout, but that was where she’d ended up. As soon as the magic started flowing, she tapped Cathy’s shield charm again and drew Adelaide and Ben into the circle with her. It was a tight fit. As balls of flame and rock flew past, she crouched low and watched for an opening to get the hell out of the crossfire. Her heart pounded. What was it Cathy had said about a circle stopping spells but not necessarily projectiles?

  “Maybe we should come back for Chris another time,” Ben suggested.

  “A bit late for that now, son,” Adelaide said.

  Joey growled. “I’m not leaving him behind.” Her stomach burned and the front of her shirt was damp. She was pretty sure Chris had broken open her wound and undone some of the vet’s—not to mention Cathy’s—hard work.

  “The fire’s spreading. The circle will stop it, right?” Ben asked.

  Adelaide glanced at the fire in question, her features pinched. “If it’s magical in nature, yes.”

  “The fire guy isn’t glowing. He must be Madrigal’s pyrokinetic,” Joey said, frowning. “No idea how that works, but either way we need to mo—”

  A black shape leapt into the circle, knocking Ben out of it. He tucked his legs in as he hit the ground and pushed up with his feet, sending the big cat flying. It landed on its feet, of course, while Ben scrambled onto all fours and shifted forms, shredding his lightweight attire in the process.