by Kim Schubert
“No one defies The Queen’s Guard.” A white blond stepped forward into the flickering light of the dying fire.
If he and his band of assholes hadn’t been working for the deranged Queen, I’d have appreciated their well-defined physiques; apparently the cold wasn’t bothering them at all. Twin pieces of leather crossed over the chests and short skirts covered the essentials.
“The Queen’s Guard is not an enemy to take on lightly,” my father warned, standing up and brushing nonexistent dust from his shoulder. He probably slept on magic. I cracked my neck, feeling the muscles beginning to tighten up.
“That’s great. I’m not one to leave my enemies alive. They tend to try sneaking up on you.”
“Do you have any friends at home?” Doyle asked, rumbling next to me.
“Yes. I have plenty.” I was almost offended by that comment.
“Plenty of enemies I’d imagine, also,” Blondie added smugly.
“That’s how I know I’m doing something right,” I snarked back at him.
“Did you obtain the shadow lark?” Blondie asked.
“Bite me,” I told him.
His eyes roved over my body. “That is a tempting offer, daughter of the Queen.”
“Oh, come on, that is not what I meant,” I groaned, crossing my arms, annoyed.
“We will not go with you,” Doyle growled.
“That is a poor decision,” Blondie stated.
“Add it to my list,” I grunted, pulling more throwing knives.
“I get the girl,” barked the asshole with the leg wound I had inflicted.
I sent a dagger at his chest. He caught it.
“Impressive speed,” I muttered, pulling a sword, matching his own sword pull. They had sent three scantily clad blondies to match us.
That was just insulting.
I twirled my sword, stretching out the muscles in my wrist.
“You hold that sword like you almost may know what you are doing,” the injured blondie taunted.
I smiled. “Come closer and I’ll show you all the pretty ways I can dice up your body.”
He huffed out a laugh. “Your strength is not in weapons.”
I lunged, wiping my blade around with deadly precision to slice through both crossed pieces of leather, leaving a wet trail of blood behind.
He was shocked, reaching down to touch the red liquid pooling from his body. I lunged again, not giving him the time to recover. If this was all the Queen’s Guard had to offer, I’d march in and take the crown off her head. Not that I wanted it.
He dodged, a blur. Fuck, even vamp speed wasn’t that fast.
“How did you get so skilled with a sword?” he whispered in my ear from behind.
I snapped my head back, connecting with the soft cartilage in his nose. I was done talking.
“Harlot!” he screeched.
Apparently, in any dimension, being female and a bad ass was an insult.
I turned, kicking out, aiming for his chest. His hand cradled his nose, his body arching forward. My kick landed against his sternum, knocking him back, away from the fire.
“You fuckers need to learn how to take a beating.” Decision made and shared.
He moved again, just a blur. I spun back to the dark night, an eerie howl splitting the blackness. I stepped forward, I knew that howl.
“LOGAN!” the scream left me. My feet moved before my brain could convince the rest of me that Logan had not somehow managed to cross the veil between our world and this one. I left behind the meager light from the dismal fire and with it, any additional protection.
I stopped. My legs and heart demanded to go on. My chest inflated and deflated rapidly, denying my most basic need to find my mate.
My fingers clenched around the handle of the sword and I hissed out a breath, my shoulders stiff.
“You will pay for that,” I whispered to the night.
A whisper to my left had me turning. It was too dark to see anything. Footsteps to my right had me shifting my gaze there, searching the darkened woods, my feet slowly sinking into the soft mud.
I sighed, “This is pointless.” I turned to trek back to the small pinpoint of light from the fire. Up the hill I pumped my legs, keeping my sword out. I could either flail around in the dark until exhaustion overtook me, or go back to the light and have a better chance.
I didn’t get the opportunity to get that far. I could feel the Guard to my left, his emotions of glee and triumph alerting me to his presence. Whether that new skill was from the magic of The Magician or my succubus heritage, I wasn’t sure. Nor was I going to analyze it at that moment.
I spun, bringing the tip of my sword up, thrusting it through his exposed chest. In the darkness I could see the white of his eyes widening in shock.
I took a step forward, letting the blade pierce through his back. Laying a hand on his chest, I pushed him off the sword, turning and continuing up the hill.
The howling had ripped open a vacant part of my soul. A part that Logan had filled with his mate bond, with his constant supportive presence. I needed that back. Having him inside my head and being a part of the packs had healed a few wounds I was too stubborn to even talk about. It was nice to have a guarantee. To know that no matter how badly I acted or broke down, he’d never leave. He’d never falter. I missed him, painfully so.
Doyle threw another log on the fire. “Where is your guard?”
“Dead, down in the shadows,” I muttered, rubbing moisture from my eyes with the back of my hand.
“I’m sorry, daughter. I should have warned you of their ability to imitate a loved one’s voice.”
I shrugged, sitting down on my discarded bedroll, using the dirt and grass to wipe the blood off my sword before I stowed it.
“Why did you hear a howl?” Doyle asked.
“Logan is a shifter,” I answered, my voice soft. “He’s a lion shifter.”
“Oh, yes,” Doyle responded.
“That is the voice you miss the most?” my father asked.
I looked into the fire, unable to meet anyone’s eyes. “There is a purity in his lion, a simplicity in our communication that leaves no room for misunderstanding. I find comfort in that connection.”
My father clasped a hand on my shoulder and I jumped slightly.
“You will be home soon, daughter.”
I nodded, brushing away more tears, drawing a deep breath.
“We have much time before dawn, try and get some sleep,” Doyle muttered.
I rubbed my eyes and nodded, not lying down. Doyle slipped down under his bedroll and was asleep instantly.
I huffed, “That’s a neat trick.”
“He does not carry worry or stress like we do. Every situation is assessed and acted upon,” my father explained.
“Must be nice.”
“I have often thought so. He doesn’t have regrets or wonder about what ifs.”
I nodded, my gaze still on the fire.
“You should get some rest,” my father tried.
“I don’t sleep well.”
“Why?” he asked.
My gaze cut to him, “Because I am haunted. Selena fundamentally broke something inside of me. I don’t sleep much. I don’t let people get close, but I kill. I kill without remorse and I need it. I need to end lives.”
His gaze turned away from mine. Anger rode me hard at the injustice of the situation. What would my future have been like with a parent who cared?
“While you may have been trapped here for years, at least no one forced your hand. No one made you their slave,” I hissed the word.
“I’m sorry. I did what I thought was best for you,” he responded.
“How did you open a portal to send me through?” I asked, changing the topic. He might be my father, he may be helping me, but he gave me to a monster. I couldn’t forgive that.
“I didn’t. Selena had been working with the Fae; they provided her transportation.”
I nodded, rubbing my hands together.
“She ended up double crossing them and losing that relationship.”
“She made quite a few mistakes.”
“So did you.”
It hung between us. My anger and distrust.
“You would have been trapped here,” my father tried.
“At least I would have been loved. I wouldn’t have grown up damaged.”
“You would have never met your mate, either.”
I wheezed out a breath. He was right. “That doesn’t excuse your decision.”
“No, it doesn’t. I made the decision to send you through. Please believe me, it was not an easy one.”
I lay down, tears seeping down my face. I didn’t want to have this conversation. My heart was already shredded in my chest. I just wanted to go home.
…
“Alright Logan, Montana has nothing. No structures, no utilities, not even an amazon order. I feel confident in crossing it off the list. Well, right after I transfer ownership into your name.”
Logan smiled, listening to the keyboard click on Tommy’s end. Hudson turned the jeep, getting back onto the main highway.
“Wyoming is the same.” The clicking continued. “However, Nebraska and Kansas both have buildings, utilities, and people out and wandering.”
“Good work, Tommy. Get all the photos you can and send them over to me. I want to have eyes walking in there.”
“You going to take backup?” Tommy asked.
Logan debated, rubbing his chin. “No, Hudson and I can handle it.”
“Alrighty, boys. Oh, and Logan?”
“Yeah.”
“Olie is being moved here tomorrow.”
Logan clenched his jaw. “How’s everyone taking it?”
“Fine.” In his mind, Logan could see Tommy’s shrug.
“She’s going to wake up, Tommy.”
“I know.” Tommy paused before adding, “I just miss her.”
“Me too, buddy, me too.”
The repairs to the airplane were completed. Logan and Hudson took their familiar seats.
“We are going to Kearney, Nebraska,” Logan relayed to the flight crew.
“Do they have a landing strip?” the flight attendant asked in a high-pitched squeak.
Logan turned. “I should hope so, or it’s going to be a bumpy landing.”
She nodded, heading to the cabin to relay the change of destination.
Logan drummed his fingers against the newly upholstered armrest and Hudson cleared his throat. Logan slanted his gaze to him.
“They just fixed it,” Hudson muttered, not making eye contact.
“They can fix it again.”
Hudson cleared his throat again. “It will be dark when we land.”
“It will.”
“Are we waiting until daylight to see them?”
Logan swiveled his chair to Hudson. “First, we are not seeing them. We are killing them. Second, are you scared of the dark? Must we wait until sunrise to make an appearance?”
Hudson swallowed, adjusting in his seat. “We don’t know if everyone there deserves to die.”
Logan blinked caramel eyes at him, flecked with espresso. “I am the Alpha, whoever attacks me dies.”
“Well, yeah, I guess it is that simple,” Hudson admitted.
Logan nodded, looking for the flight attendant. “You picked up dinner while we were out?”
“Yes, let me grab it.”
Logan and Hudson dined on three steaks each, with potatoes, broccoli, corn and apple pie. Once Logan’s stomach was full, he reclined in the seat.
“Get some rest, it’s going to be a long night.”
Hudson grunted, grumbling incoherently. Crash course in becoming a responsible alpha.
Logan pushed everything from his mind, Olivia, the packs, Anna. He pulled upon his beast to still his mind and rest his body.
The second the plane touched down, Logan sat up. The flight attendant hadn’t woken him up to put his tray table and seat back in their upright positions, and he was grateful.
The cabin door opened and Logan scented cow manure on the chilly air.
“Will you be needing us again tonight?” the flight attendant asked, staying in the safety of the onboard kitchen.
“Give them a rest,” Hudson muttered on an exhale.
Logan turned to him with a raised eyebrow.
“Whatever you think, Alpha,” Hudson amended.
Logan turned his gaze back to the timid flight attendant. “Be ready to fly at eight a.m.” She nodded, staying out of their way as they exited.
Hudson scanned the area. “Where the hell is the car?” he muttered.
A familiar black SUV took a corner quickly, leaving rubber on the asphalt. Logan grunted, a smile playing at the corner of his mouth.
The vehicle came to an abrupt stop and the passenger window slid down.
“Hey boss,” Mark called out.
“We have arrived!” Jerry proclaimed.
Logan chuckled in spite of the worry heavy on his heart. Hudson slipped into the backseat, sliding over, and Logan followed him.
“We got snacks,” Jerry announced, and Mark passed back the greasy bags.
“Excellent,” Logan grunted, taking the food.
“Didn’t we just eat?” Hudson commented.
Jerry laughed, “You haven’t been around long enough, Hudson. We take our meals where we can get them, especially going into a fight.”
“Yeah, we never know when some psycho is going to kidnap our asses,” Mark grunted.
“Not anymore!” Jerry was downright gleeful.
Mark grunted, casting a look at Logan.
“I’ve perfected the anti-kidnapping hex bags!” Jerry did a little happy dance in his seat.
“Really?” Hudson asked.
“Well, hopefully I have. I plan on testing them out,” Jerry amended.
“On who?” Logan asked. “Who’s volunteering to get kidnapped?”
“No one’s volunteering, but I do happen to know of one particular succubus who happens to get her ass kidnapped quite a bit,” Jerry alluded.
Logan grunted, “I can’t deny that logic. If they work, I want one for all the shifters and The Council.”
Mark laughed as Jerry groaned, his shoulders slumping.
“You walked into that,” Mark noted, continuing to laugh.
“I’m charging you a small fortune. It took me a week to make three,” Jerry whined.
Logan shrugged, “We will see if they work.”
Jerry groaned again.
The compound was a two-hour drive. Logan turned his gaze to the almost full moon overhead.
“Have you both seen pictures of this place?” he asked.
“Yeah, Tommy sent everything over, or rather they just showed up on my laptop. That kid is dangerous,” Mark commented.
“He’s brilliant,” Logan stated.
“Terrifyingly brilliant,” Hudson added.
“From what he sent over, it looks like there is only one building, with a sentry tower close to the road.” The light from Mark’s laptop shined around the edges of the seat.
“The windows looked to have bars as well,” Hudson added.
“To keep them in or us out is the question,” Mark commented.
“We will find out. There will be no mercy tonight. Anyone who attacks us will be killed,” Logan commanded.
“You’ve clearly been hanging with Olivia for too long.” A note of longing tinged Jerry’s voice.
Logan grunted.
The GPS announced they were ten minutes away.
“Let’s park around here,” Mark said, closing his laptop.
Jerry grumbled, “I did not wear walking shoes.”
“Good thing I brought them for you,” Mark responded.
“I suppose,” Jerry sighed, slipping the SUV into a thick patch of grass and trees.
Stepping out of the vehicle, Logan stretched, inhaling the crisp night.
“Fuck, it’s cold,” Jerry complained, pulling a
jacket around his shoulders before changing his shoes. Over the thick fabric, he slid a messenger bag onto his shoulder.
He muttered a word, leaving a bag next to the wheel. Brushing his hands off, he smiled. “Don’t be jealous of my skills.”
Logan chuckled, “I’ll try to keep it in check.”
He appreciated Jerry’s attempts at good humor. He imagined it must be draining. Olivia had become a fast friend to him, one who had proved her loyalty on more than one occasion.
Hudson led the way into the thick undergrowth.
“No flashlights, Jerry, hold onto Mark,” Logan commanded.
“Oh, I got this.” Jerry flipped down night vision goggles.
“We visited Myrtle’s,” Mark muttered.
“Yes, and you’re lucky I left without that gorgeous sword.”
“You can’t use a sword,” Mark reminded him.
Hudson stopped his forward movement, crouching down and waving to them to do the same. Logan moved next to him, inhaling deeply.
He scented the sentry’s gunpowder and fear. The air was rank with fear.
With a hand he indicated they were to hang back. Logan stepped into the clearing, waiting for the light from the sentry tower to land on him.
The beam of light blinded him. Logan heard the gasps, followed by the readying of firearms.
“Do you know who I am?” he asked calmly.
“You’re the false Alpha,” a voice reached him. “Shoot him!”
“Wrong answer,” Logan muttered, already on the move to the wooden ladder leading up to the sentry station.
He knew they would shoot down, having seen where he was headed. He waited a breath, steeling himself for the inevitable pain before starting up.
“Hey assholes!” Hudson cried, “Over here!”
Logan heard the feet above him shift to the window, looking down to the new threat. Pushing with all of his considerable speed, Logan stretched his long body, skipping rungs to arrive at the trap door. He slowed as he reached the door, anticipating it would be locked after the announcement of his arrival. Coiling his body under it, he paused for just a breath before pushing up.
The wood snapped under his assault, drowned out by the sound of assault rifles being fired at Hudson. He hoped the idiot was smart enough to run.
Logan burst through the broken wood, a piece raking down his back. He turned, facing the two shooters. Their wide eyes and trembling hands gave him all the time he needed to clear the distance between his body and theirs.
