by Raand, L. L.
Francesca drew a snowy lace handkerchief from the pocket of her gown and daintily wiped the blood from her lips. “I must admit, Sylvan has surprised me. Our guards should be able to hold her back.”
“Our numbers are evenly matched,” Michel said, “which should give us the advantage, but we will lose some in the fighting. Our ranks of seasoned fighters are thin and we can’t afford to lose many.”
As they both watched, a beast Michel had never seen ripped and tore at the Vampires closing in around Sylvan. Arms and legs and heads littered its path.
“Is that…”
“Not Were,” Michel said, “Fae.”
Francesca’s power flared and her face transformed for an instant into a furious mask. “That was no ordinary tracker we were holding in our dungeon. Cecilia has been keeping secrets.”
“Whatever it is,” Michel said, doubting that twice as many Vampires as they had would be able to defeat Sylvan and her forces with that beast on Sylvan’s side, “stopping it will not be easy. I’m going up to organize our guards. You need to call for your personal guards and leave for a safe house with your servants and slaves now. I’ll contact you when we—”
“Now, darling. I can’t afford to lose you, can I?” Francesca gave her a long look and stroked her face. “I think we have what we need to deal with Sylvan.” She linked her arm through Michel’s. “After all, blood is so much better shed for pleasure.”
*
Sylvan searched the circling Vampires for the leader. Take out the strongest and the others will falter. Niki’s wolf soared into the center of the Vampires and pressed close to Sylvan’s left flank. The Hound shimmered into form on her other side.
“Been collecting souls?” Sylvan said to the Master of the Hunt.
The Hound, standing nearly as tall as Sylvan’s shoulder, rumbled. Its dark eyes, fathomless burning pits, tracked the Vampires who streamed into the room from the hallway behind the bar.
We can wait for them to pick us apart, Sylvan subvocalized, or we can take the fight to them. What say you both?
Niki’s wolf howled a challenge.
The Hound roared, its ears flattening to its great skull and its jaws opening to expose its dagger-like teeth.
Sylvan smiled. Good hunting.
Sylvan rushed the nearest Vampire and buried her blade beneath his breastbone. As he dropped, she pulled her blade from his chest and decapitated him in one swift swing of her blade. Niki’s wolf sailed by her and struck another Vampire in the neck, dragging it down. She ripped out its throat and cracked its spine. It might not die, but it would not rise to fight again this night. The Hound tore off the head of another, and a fountain of blood shot across the floor.
A Vampire jumped on Sylvan’s back and bit her neck. A wave of pain shot through her chest, her vision blurred, and she went to her knees. She twisted away, her broken left arm useless. The Vampire crouched, a sword gripped in both hands. Sylvan was outdistanced by the longer blade, and possibly slower than her opponent. She circled, knife in hand, staying out of range of the slashing blade, and waited for an opening.
“Sylvan,” Francesca’s silky voice cut through the sound of battle. “Let’s be civilized about this. There’s no need for us to be at each other’s throats.”
Sylvan, half-mad with pain and battle frenzy, swung toward the sound of Francesca’s laughter. Francesca, nearly naked and her face alight with insane power, stood at the far side of the room. Michel, her face a blank, was at her left side. A huge mountain lion crouched on her right. Francesca held Katya against her body with one arm wrapped around her waist, as if in an embrace. In her left hand she held a long silver dagger to Katya’s throat. Her glowing eyes met Sylvan’s and her power pulsed against Sylvan’s mind. “After all, we each have something the other wants. A simple trade will save us all a great deal of trouble.”
Chapter Twenty-nine
The Vampires surrounding Sylvan backed away, their hungry expressions vacillating between Francesca and Sylvan as they waited for the signal to attack again. Sylvan ignored them—the only threat in the room that mattered now was Francesca. Sylvan’s choice was clear, and she studied the Vampire through wolf’s eyes, assessing her as she did any prey, preparing for the kill. She would never bargain for the life of one of her own, nor would she betray an ally. Torren had risked her life for Misha, tracked Katya to this place, and fought by Sylvan’s side. Sylvan was in her debt, and more—Torren was a friend to the Pack.
“You have violated Pack law by attacking one of mine,” Sylvan said. “Our alliance is dissolved. Release my wolf.”
“Attacked?” Francesca’s brows rose. “You’ll find no marks on her. Why, I wouldn’t even let Michel feed from her, and you know how fond my enforcer is of young Were females.”
Michel remained as immobile as a statue, but Sylvan sensed her fury and wondered why Francesca didn’t. Sylvan reached out to Katya’s wolf and found only murky confusion. Katya hung motionless in Francesca’s grip, eyes glazed. Enthralled. Helpless to help herself, walled inside her own mind by the force of Francesca’s will. Empowered by the Pack’s collective consciousness, Sylvan intensified her link to Katya and found a flicker of recognition and determination. Not completely enthralled. Sylvan discovered something else too, something new. A bond not of her making—not of wolf. Of Vampire.
“Release her, or I will take her.” Sylvan spoke to Francesca but stared into the opaque blue surface of Michel’s eyes. Michel—a willing or unwilling connection to Katya? “Anyone who stands in my way will die.”
“Our energies can be put to much more pleasant uses,” Francesca said. With her reasonable tone and pleasant smile, she might have been remarking on the weather, as casually as if the floor of Nocturne did not run red with the blood of dozens. “Give me the Fae, and we can put all this nastiness behind us.”
“The Fae does not belong to me,” Sylvan said.
“The Fae fights for you. You gave it sanctuary.” Francesca lifted a creamy white shoulder. “That makes it yours. Your responsibility at the very least.”
Beside her, the Hound growled faintly, a menacing sound that despite its softness carried throughout the room and beat against the eardrums like thunder. The Hound’s thick lips skinned back, its deadly mouth painted with blood. The impenetrable darkness in its eyes seemed to come to life and swirl into the room like decaying fog, cloaking Francesca and her Vampires in midnight mist. The Vampires—all save Francesca and Michel—stumbled back, clawing at their own throats.
Francesca laughed. “Oh, Cecilia, Cecilia. What have you sent me? Fae magic to choke on?” She threw back her head and laughed, the eerie cry of thousands of lost souls screaming. Her eyes glowed blood red as she stared at the Hound. The black mist pulsed as if alive, electricity sparked in the air, and the fog drifted away like harmless smoke.
Pressure intensified inside Sylvan’s head, as if giant hands held her in their grip and squeezed. A trickle, wet and warm, ran from her nose. Blood coated her lips. Her own blood. “Release my wolf and I will allow your Vampires to leave. You and I will settle this, wolf to Vampire.”
“I’ve always loved your arrogance,” Francesca said, her lips thinning. “But today, I grow tired of it. I will give you your wolf, but the Fae is mine.”
“No,” Sylvan said.
From behind Sylvan a smooth, cultured voice said, “The Vampires have no fight with the wolves. Clan Night Hunter stands with Sylvan, Alpha of the Timberwolves.”
Sylvan smiled as Jody Gates, Lara, and a mountain lion half again the size of the one by Francesca’s side stepped up beside her. “Good to see you.”
Jody, in an impeccably pressed white shirt, creased black trousers, and shiny black boots, said, “Sorry we’re late. It took Lara and Raina a little longer to get here than we expected.”
“You didn’t miss much.”
“I noticed.” Jody flicked dark hair out of her eyes with long elegant fingers, a diamond cufflink glinting at her wrist. “Clan Night H
unter claims Dominion over this territory and declares Francesca relieved of any sovereign rights. Any Vampire who joins me now is welcome.”
“I hold Dominion here,” Francesca screamed, all humor gone from her face. Her power cut the air like a lash.
A wound opened on Jody’s cheek and blood ran down her face, staining her white shirt. A crushing weight encircled Sylvan’s chest, and blinding pain filled her head. From the shadows, Vampires rushed toward them on all sides. Lara quickly pressed back to back with Sylvan, and Jody and Raina pivoted behind Niki and Torren. Six against dozens.
Raina’s cat screamed a challenge, the Hound roared, and Niki howled a battle cry. Jody brought a dozen guards to their knees, enthralled and dazed.
Sylvan shifted to pelt and sent her call to every wolf warrior to join her in the hunt. The room filled with howls, and Katya, trapped in Francesca’s arms, shifted along with the rest of the Pack.
Free yourself, Sylvan called to her and leapt at Francesca. Sailing through the air, she saw Katya’s wolf claw her way out of Francesca’s arms. A glint of silver slid into Michel’s hand, and the Vampire plunged a long, thin blade into Francesca’s chest.
Chapter Thirty
Sylvan landed with her legs planted on either side of Michel’s torso. Michel still held a blade, streaked in crimson, in her right hand. Sylvan growled, her canines millimeters from the Vampire’s throat.
A cat screamed nearby.
All around her, wolves howled.
Sylvan’s wolf met Michel’s unblinking stare. Friend or foe?
The Vampire bared her teeth, her incisors unsheathed and challenging.
Sylvan lunged for her throat and Michel froze.
A white-and-black wolf lowered her head in front of Sylvan’s and snarled in her face. She is mine.
Sylvan searched Katya’s wild eyes, hunting for her wolf. The wolf who stared back at her in defiance was hers, but not hers. Not all hers. Part of this wolf belonged to another. To the Vampire. Sylvan growled. She must submit.
She will never submit. Katya’s eyes shone with pride and strength. You can trust her.
On your life?
With my life.
Sylvan lowered her weight onto Michel’s chest, pinning her to the floor, and closed her jaws around Michel’s throat. Hear me, Vampire. I will have your loyalty or I will have your life.
“I will pledge alliance, but the Vampires and Katya will always come first. My loyalty is to them above all others.”
As it should be. Sylvan slowly closed her jaws another fraction of an inch, reminding this once-enemy now-friend she was Alpha, and released her grip. I declare you a friend of the Pack. Betray me or my wolves on penalty of death.
Michel smiled. “A threat I take seriously now.” Her gaze flicked to Katya’s wolf, who nuzzled her face. “I declare blood rights with this Were.”
Katya?
Yes. I take her as my mate.
So be it. Sylvan let Michel go and swung her head around to survey the room.
Francesca was gone. At least half the Vampires had disappeared. Those who remained congregated in an uneasy circle between Michel and Jody. Raina padded back in from the shadows at the far end of the room, shaking her head and rumbling unhappily. The Hound prowled through the ever-darkening recesses around the perimeter of the room, finishing her Hunt.
The battle was over.
Sylvan shed pelt and rose. Throughout the room, Weres did the same. She studied Michel, who stood with an arm around Katya. “Is Francesca dead?”
“Unless I see her severed head, I would not swear to it.”
“Don’t you…have a connection to her?”
Katya growled and Michel smiled, the arrogant self-satisfied smile of one whose mate has claimed blood rights. “No one touches Francesca’s mind unless she allows it. If she lives, she is well-shielded.”
“Do you know where she would go?”
“Possibly.”
“Later you will tell me.” Sylvan signaled to Niki. “Take the centuri and a cadre of warriors and sweep the lair. Offer amnesty to any Vampire or servant you find. If they resist, execute them. If Francesca remains, she is mine.”
Niki saluted and disappeared.
Sylvan cupped Katya’s jaw. “Are you hurt?”
Katya’s chin came up. “I’m fine, Alpha.”
“Good. You did well.” Sylvan turned to Jody and Raina. “What about the cat with Francesca? The one who took Katya.”
“Gone.” Raina’s lip curled. “I can go after her, but in the city I can’t give chase in pelt. Tracking her will be slow.”
“No, there is no need. She is either with Francesca or has disappeared back into the mountains. Another time.”
“I promise you,” Raina said, “I will find her and exact retribution for her part in this.”
Sylvan nodded and met Jody’s gaze. “Well?”
Jody gave a predatory smile. “The Vampire clans need a supreme leader. Otherwise we will have civil war.”
“Vampire business.” Sylvan shrugged. “Are you claiming Francesca’s rule?”
Jody turned to Michel. “You are Francesca’s second-in-command. Do you claim Dominion?”
“I have never been interested in rule. Politics are not to my taste.” Michel stroked Katya’s hair lazily. “But some things are. I want Nocturne.”
“It’s yours, as are any of Francesca’s Vampires who wish to stay under your sovereign command. As to the rest…” Jody faced the Vampires. “I hereby claim Dominion over the Eastern Territory and all who dwell within for Clan Chasseur de Nuit, in the name of Viceregal Zachary Gates. Do you swear allegiance?”
Each took a knee, including Michel. “We do.”
“Michel le Clare is named Liege, and Nocturne and all its holdings are now under her sovereign rule. Those of you who wish to serve her may stay. The rest will return with me to clan home.”
Sylvan felt Drake approach before the light touch on her shoulder signaled her presence. She turned and kissed her. “Hello, Prima. How are my wolves?”
Drake pressed a hand to her back. “None lost, but some need more than I can do here. We’ve moved the Rovers to the front of the building and the wounded are being loaded now.”
“Thank you.” Sylvan caressed the back of Drake’s neck. “Take all the Rovers but one and get the injured back to the Compound.”
“You need to be among them. Your arm needs attention and you’re bleeding on the floor.”
Sylvan grinned. “It’s nothing a few hours in pelt won’t cure. As soon as we’ve secured this place, I’ll be back.”
“Then I’m staying.”
“As you wish, Prima.”
Chapter Thirty-one
Sylvan woke to the sensation of two small bodies clambering over her. Laughing, she pushed up in bed and gathered the pups into her arms. They licked her face and yipped ecstatically. Kira bit her ear, and Sylvan grabbed her by the scruff and shook her lightly. Kira bristled in a tiny show of defiance and then lowered her gaze. Laughing, Sylvan rubbed her cheek against the silky soft muzzle and looked at her mate. “Is it time?”
“They seem to think so.” Drake sat beside Sylvan, rested a hand on her stomach, and kissed her. “I think they’ve doubled in size overnight.”
“Certainly feels like it.”
“How is your arm?”
Sylvan released the pups, who tumbled onto the bed and immediately began growling and play fighting. She slid the arm Bernardo had broken around Drake’s waist. “Perfectly fine. I told you I only needed to spend some time in pelt, and it would heal.”
“And of course you were right.” Drake tugged on Sylvan’s lip and Sylvan’s growl deepened. Drake laughed softly. “More of that would be good too. Later.”
“How are the others?”
“I’ve just come from the infirmary. Elena and Sophia report they should all be released sometime in the next day or so.”
Sylvan sighed. “We were fortunate we did not lose anyone.”
“Thank you for trusting me.”
“Always.” Drake curled against her and watched the pups tussle with innocent abandon. “It’s just that I want to be by your side. I need to be with you.”
“You are. Always.” Sylvan ran her fingers through Drake’s hair and kissed her. “No matter where I am, no matter what I’m doing.”
“It’s not over yet, is it?”
“No. Not all the Vampires will be happy about Gates assuming power—and we are Jody’s ally. If she fights, we may also. Our priority must be to find the remaining labs and destroy them.” She raised a shoulder. “As to the Fae…who knows what the Fae are doing? Torren promised to return after she carried those she gathered across to Faerie and reported to Cecilia.”
“Do you think she’ll come back?”
“Yes.”
“Because of Misha?”
Sylvan grimaced. “Partly, yes. But she is a royal Fae, and their motives are never simple.”
Drake stroked Kendra’s ear. “I never saw Francesca leave, and Sophia and I were watching the exits.”
“That means nothing.” Sylvan’s eyes flashed. “She might be dead.”
“Why don’t I believe it?” Drake said darkly. “If it were so easy to kill her, someone certainly would have, hundreds of years ago.”
“If she returns, she will have to face Jody and Michel’s forces as well as our own.” Sylvan sat up on the side of the bed and collected the pups, handing one to Drake and holding the other against her chest. “Right now we have more pressing business. We need to teach these two to hunt.”
“Yes, enough of war.” Drake smiled and kissed her. “Let’s run.”
*
Light-headed with exhilaration, Veronica Standish leaned over the incubator in the isolation lab. The specimens were perfect. She set the stethoscope into her ears and checked the heart rates again. One hundred and fifty. Normal. Neurologic systems seemed normal. Both of them—perfect. At last her true work could begin!
