Christopher smirked at Josephine but reached across the table and snagged the parchment from her. She tried to grab for it, but he’d rolled it up and put it back in his jacket pocket before she could move.
“My fellow Supes, what I have in my pocket is an ancient scroll containing a spell to sever the ties between a bear Patriarch and his clan. It successfully allows the heir to take his place without the required rituals,” he explained.
“You tried to kill Roman’s father without making sure he had time to pass the throne to Roman,” Josephine murmured. “You had no idea a ritual was needed in order for the heir to inherit control.” Her eyes shot to Christopher’s and she shivered under the pure evil that stared back at her. “What would have happened to Roman if his father had died without the ritual?”
“The clan’s magic would have died with the old man,” Christopher explained. “The leadership would have passed to another branch of the family and the Williams’ would have become human.”
“Wouldn’t that have put a kink in your plans?” Josephine challenged Rafe.
“Which is why I’m so thankful that the new heir-apparent saw the need to inform me of my slight mistake,” Rafe answered and slammed his glass down onto the table. “I think that it’s time for Ms. Baxter to be escorted back to her room,” he added and waved for someone standing just outside the dining room.
Josephine allowed herself to be led back to the dingy room and then paced the floor as worry gnawed in the pit of her stomach. It soon became clear to her that even though Christopher knew the Scroll detailed the steps to the certain ritual, he couldn’t read the text himself and nor could anyone else.
They needed her to translate it for them and that was something she refused to do. Reaching into her pocket, she pulled the little mirror out and stared deeply into it, willing Roman’s face to re-emerge so she could relay what she’d learned.
After several minutes of simply staring at her own frustrated expression, she tossed it on the bed in annoyance. Time was quickly running out for Roman’s father and if Mr. Williams died without the needed rituals, Roman’s entire family would turn human and eventually die.
She couldn’t understand why Christopher was the only one who knew of an ancient ritual that would allow Roman to sever the ties between himself and his dying father; which prompted her to wonder just who Christopher truly was.
“Oh, I would kill to have my cell phone right now,” she huffed in exasperation.
After pacing for another hour or so, Josephine’s body finally began to tire. She grabbed the mirror, tucking it safely back into her pocket and crawled into the middle of the bed, tucking a blanket around her. As she drifted off the sleep, she thought she heard Roman’s voice in her head.
She knew she had to be dreaming because he was telling her that he was almost there.
A massive explosion woke her from a deep slumber. Jolting straight up in the bed, Josephine sat still a few moments and nursed her racing heart. Not sure she’d heard anything at all; she jumped when another loud boom echoed just outside her window. Her adrenaline jumped into overdrive and she scrambled to free herself from the blanket.
Luckily, she managed to get off the bed before a large portion of the cracked ceiling rained down on her.
She heard shouts, both from inside the house and out. Hearing footsteps in the hallway, she moved toward the door. Suddenly it exploded in on her and the blast sent her sprawling to the floor.
Squinting through the dust, she saw a massive, hulking frame silhouetted in the doorway and relief flooded her, but that welcome emotion only lasted a brief second.
“Get up,” a deep guttural voice barked and she recognized Christopher Williams beneath the fur partially masking his humanesque features.
“What’s happening?” she asked and got unsteadily to her feet. But instead of moving toward the beast, she took a few steps deeper into the room. She had no idea why he was only partially shifted, but memories of how Roman had lost control when he’d touched his mother’s statue rushed back to her. Fear reached up and grabbed her in a choke-hold. She sure as hell didn’t want Christopher attacking her.
“I’ll tell you what’s happening,” he growled and strode into the room, grabbing her roughly by the arm. “Your mate has found us.”
Even though pain sliced through her arm where he’d grabbed her, Josephine felt a measure of relief. He’d sprouted a thick beard, complete with sideburns, and small fangs peeked from between his lips, but Christopher still appeared mostly in his human form. His formerly pristine suit was covered in some sort of white dust and the material on his right-side pants leg was severed from the knee down and her eyes widened in shock when she saw a very hairy leg leading down to a paw as big as her head. She just hoped his control lasted long enough for Roman to find her.
Swallowing her fear, she allowed Christopher to drag her into the hallway. She worried that by struggling he would grow angrier and possibly hurt her more than she cared. With her feet partially dragging, she followed him down the dingy hall and then to the stairs leading down.
However, the moment they came off the stairwell onto the first floor, the front door and part of the wall surrounding it, flew inward after another explosion rent the night air.
Josephine found herself thrown to the floor yet again. The back of her head hit something firmly unyielding and a sharp twinge erupted at the nape of her neck, sending pain shooting up into her skull.
Her vision wavered slightly, just enough for her to scream when an unconscious – and possibly dead – Christopher fell atop her, successfully pinning her body completely to the hardwood floor.
Loud bangs and brief flares of light continued to erupt around her, the commotion causing dust and other debris to rain down everywhere. She tried to free herself of the bear’s dead weight, but couldn’t so much as move a toe.
Suddenly a small group of men converged through the gaping maw, rifles retrofitted with red beams of laser light, spreading out into the dark room around them.
A fully shifted werewolf burst in from the dining room, his huge furry body sailing through the air, his gaping snout grabbing one of the new arrivals on the arm. The soldier snarled and when the sound emerged like a bear’s roar, Josephine frowned in confusion. Suddenly she didn’t know if she was being rescued or kidnapped from her kidnappers.
Since Rafe had a bear in his back pocket, it was kind of difficult to decipher whether she was safe or not.
One of the men converged on her and it didn’t take her long to realize it wasn’t just armed possible bear shifters attacking, but soldiers, clad head-to-toe in black tactical gear. When the man offered her his outstretched hand, Josephine frowned up at him. Was he friend, or foe?
“Ms. Baxter?” the soldier asked from behind the black visor of his helmet. “We’re Colonel Williams’ platoon, we’re here to get you out,” he gently informed her. “Take my hand,” he ordered more forcefully. “The roof can come down any moment.”
Shaking her head to dislodge the confusing thoughts jumbling her mind, she reached out and took the soldier’s proffered hand. As he began pulling her free of the unconscious shifter on top of her, she remembered the Scroll.
“Wait,” she murmured and used her free hand to search Christopher’s pockets. Once she found the document, she wrapped her hand tightly around it and allowed herself to be pulled up.
He stood her on her feet and then caught her when she wavered. Fresh pain tore through her head and a warm liquid coated her upper lip.
“She’s concussed,” the soldier shouted and suddenly his voice came from far away. “Clear a path,” he added. She felt herself being lifted off the ground and the feeling of weightlessness enveloping her. Gripping her hand tightly closed, her last coherent thought was that she had to get the Scroll the Roman.
Chapter Twelve
“Josephine?” a familiar voice called to her through the hazy fog filling her head. “Open your eyes, let me know you’re alright,”
the man demanded hoarsely.
“Sir, she’s taken a pretty hard bump to the head,” another voice cut in. “She’s bleeding from her nose and ears. We have an ambulance en route, ETA fifteen minutes.”
“Copy that,” Roman barked back. “Tell Major Scott he has command.”
She heard footsteps retreating as the other man moved away from them.
Groaning slightly, she forced her eyelids open. Although his image was muddled and distorted at first, Josephine recognized Roman instantly. But instead of the normal suit and tie, he was clad in head to toe black combat gear.
She sat up and winced when the world around her swam like a whirling vortex of shadows and light. She felt like she’d drunk an entire case of wine.
“My head,” she croaked.
“You have a concussion,” Roman murmured softly and placed his hands on her shoulders, pushing her to lie back down. “Try not to move,” he advised. “But don’t pass out again, okay?” he added a bit more forcefully.
She reached up to probe at her throbbing temple and stopped short when she realized she gripped something tightly in her hand. She opened her palm and on seeing the crumbled document, she sat back upright, and immediately regretted the action.
“What the hell are you doing?” Roman barked. “I just told you to lie down.”
“Read this,” she insisted and shoved the Scroll toward him. Slumping back down on the ground, she winced when another explosion shook her entire body. “Who are those soldiers?” she asked and turned her head to watch the battle going on in the distance.
What had once been a dilapidated farmhouse was now a roaring ball of fire with flames reaching high into the night sky. Wolf howls rent the air along with gunshots and shouts. Roman had initiated a full-on raid.
“They’re my men,” he answered and turned the parchment to study it from a different angle. “My clan runs a special ops program for the government. I didn’t tell you the whole truth when I said the government contracts us,” he continued almost absently.
“So what, you’re a super-soldier shape shifter?” she asked sarcastically.
“Something like that,” he responded and tilted the paper another direction. She sighed in exasperation and reached out to snag the Scroll and turn it right side up for him.
“Where did you get this?” Roman demanded after glancing at the symbols.
Sliding her eyes back to him, Josephine shifted uncomfortably.
“A bear shifter by the name of Christopher Williams,” she explained softly, but not without a hint of anger. “Apparently, he used my friend Clara to introduce you and me. Clara said she dated him in high school.”
“Chris?” Roman echoed in a voice raw with emotion. “Chris was here? I haven’t seen him in ten years. He’s one of my younger cousins.”
“I’m sorry,” Josephine murmured. “I hate being the one to tell you this, but he not only had that Scroll, but he also wanted to use it to usurp the leadership.”
Roman’s face ran a gauntlet of emotions as he processed the idea of his own family betraying him. After a few moments, he simply nodded in acceptance and tucked the Scroll into an inner vest pocket. Bringing his wrist up toward his face, he began barking orders and she realized he had a communications piece on his wrist.
He ordered his men to look for Christopher and then frowned when an immediate response came. Josephine knew he’d been in the foyer when they’d found her, but she inhaled sharply when she heard the man tell Roman that the bear was gone.
“We aren’t that easy to kill,” Roman murmured when he noticed her widened eyes. “He was probably just knocked out.”
“Roman, you have to find him,” Josephine urged. “He’s working with the werewolves. They cursed your father and now they plan on killing you inorder for Christopher to take over.”
“And so the war continues,” Roman growled and stood. “Did you decipher this Scroll?” he asked and patted his pocket to indicate the one she’d given to him.
She nodded in response.
“But you now have both Scrolls, you can take the other one to the doctor and let them cure your father,” she argued. “You don’t have to worry about the one Christopher had.” She gestured towards his vest pocket.
Roman’s face settled into a frightening mask of rage.
“Always have a plan B,” he advised. “My men have taken this pack, but as you pointed out, there are many more out there who agree with these barbarians. We can’t afford for my father to die without the necessary rituals, so you’ll just have to translate this one for me and we’ll perform it just in case.”
Josephine refused to get into the ambulance once it arrived. No matter how hard the EMTs tried, she simply wouldn’t leave Roman. It didn’t matter that he’d said they’d won this particular battle; she wouldn’t leave his side until they were both able to go.
He’d officially released command to Major Scott, but chose to hang around when word spread that they’d intercepted the pack’s leader, Rafe.
Within ten minutes or so, two soldiers approached, dragging the body of a naked man between them. Even though his long hair hung in wet clumps around his face, she recognized him as her captor immediately.
“Clothe him and secure him,” Roman ordered and watched with emotionless eyes as they nodded and turned to drag the shifter to a nearby SUV. One pulled a blanket from the back and wrapped it around Rafe before the other one put a pair of antiquated, silver cuffs on the wolf’s wrists and ankles.
“Silver,” she murmured.
“All shifters abhor silver,” Roman acknowledged. “Wolves especially. Some of the old tales are true,” he relented and turned toward her, opening his arms. “But most of them aren’t, it’s how we’ve survived so long in the human world.”
Tearing her eyes away from the soldiers as they shoved Rafe into the back seat of the vehicle, she moved toward Roman and allowed him to crush her in a warm embrace. Closing her eyes, she laid her cheek on his chest and exhaled deeply. She was safe again.
“Let’s go,” Roman whispered against the top of her head. “We still need to get you looked at and bandaged up; you have quite a few scratches and scrapes.”
Nodding at his request, Josephine allowed him to lead her to the ambulance where the EMTs quickly sat her down and began probing and prodding.
She answered enough questions about herself that Roman could write her autobiography and then grumbled while they went about cleaning and bandaging her wounds. She hadn’t suffered anything more serious than a concussion and even now, the effects were quickly fading.
When they finally relented and told Roman that she could go home, he helped her into the black SUV and then hopped in the back seat with her. Looking toward the driver, which she wasn’t shocked to see was Leo dressed in matching tactical gear, she simply smiled and settled back against the plush leather seat.
Within minutes they were back at Roman’s country home and she realized that Rafe had been keeping her dangerously close to his enemy.
“What are you going to do with Rafe?” she asked as they pulled through the front gates.
Roman shrugged nonchalantly, and turned cold, almost dead eyes on her.
“Depends on whether my father lives or not,” he answered gruffly and then swung his door open when the car rolled to a stop. Turning back, he offered her his hand and helped her from the car, up the steps and into the house.
“Why don’t you go enjoy a nice, long bubble bath,” he suggested and urged her toward the stairs. “I’ll be up shortly,” he promised.
Josephine nodded hesitantly and turned to start up the stairs when the front doors burst open and Rafe charged in still wearing his chains. He was held by two guards with three others bringing up the rear.
“In the cellar,” Roman barked and then slid his eyes back to Josephine’s. She couldn’t suppress the shiver at seeing how his beautiful gray eyes had gone fathomless black.
Chapter Thirteen
After a nice, lon
g, scalding hot bubble bath, Josephine dressed in a white t-shirt and black yoga pants. Pulling her hair into a bun high on her head, she climbed into the middle of her bed and let her mind picture the symbols on the Bear Scroll. Roman wanted the ritual translated so he could have it performed before his father died.
Plan B, he’d called it. Josephine felt like he had already said his goodbyes to his father and now he raced to save his clan. But deep in her heart, she knew she could save his father. They’d found the Wolf Scroll and she just needed to make sure the doctor got it.
Bouncing from the bed, she opened her door and eased down the hallway to the head of the stairs. Stopping, she listened for voices or movement. When she was satisfied that everyone was otherwise occupied, she crept down to the library and began sifting through the documents littering the table.
Brushing aside the maps she’d had Robert pull out, she searched for the Wolf Scroll. After an hour or so of nothing, she decided that Roman had probably hid it somewhere safe. So, resigned to wait until he emerged from his dungeon of torture, there wasn’t anything she could do but wait.
She went back to her bedroom and opened the sliding door separating their rooms so that she would know when he returned. Crawling back into her bed, she fluffed the pillows and relaxed.
She must have dozed off, because the next thing she knew, Roman’s bedroom door slammed and her body was suddenly abuzz with anxiety.
“Roman?” she called and extracted herself from the covers to pad over to the adjoining door. Still clad in his tactical gear, Roman paced the carpeted floor like a caged animal. Anger rolled off him in huge waves.
Roman whirled to face her. “How are you feeling?” he asked tersely.
“Better,” she answered and hesitantly moved toward him.
“Don’t lie to me,” he threatened and pulled her roughly into his embrace. “I can feel your emotions, remember? I can also feel your physical pain,” he added and then held her at arms’ length so he could look her in the eye. “The bond between us has grown very strong Josephine, I never imagined feeling this way for someone,” he admitted softly and then lowered his lips to capture hers in a soft, passionate kiss.
His Takeover: An Enemies to Lovers Romance Page 84
