“Wait,” Marcus said, and Scott turned, a question on his face.
“She needs extra protection from this Were.”
Scott's siblings turned to look at their father. When he had their full attention, he resumed. “You understand how dangerous a turned Singer is. The Queen will be like a homing beacon.”
Brendan nodded, understanding. “He'll be a problem, all right.”
Scott's heart began to speed, his intuition kicking in. Already, his thoughts were on Julia. Where was she at this very moment? He was instantly pissed that he gave a rat's ass. He felt as if his mind were tearing in two. His intellect rebelled against what his soul was compelled to execute… and feel.
Julia, it screamed. Where is Julia? Scott shook his head to clear it from the fuzziness of the duality of his nature.
“Why?” Scott heard himself asking despite himself.
Michael hadn't paid attention to this part of his training and shrugged, but Jen had been an apt pupil like Brendan, and she said, “It breaks the mind of a Singer turned. His mind is gone. He'd want to belong with us but wouldn't know how.”
“He'd hurt Julia if he got his hands on her,” Brendan said. “Those Singers that have been turned are crazy as hell.”
Marcus nodded. “As descriptions go, that's a good one.”
Scott's hand clenched the solid brass knob of the screen door, and it creaked in protest under his abusive grip. “So, let me get this straight. This… feral werewolf was once a Singer, got nailed by a Were attack, and is now scenting after Julia.”
“Yeah,” Brendan said.
Scott scoffed. “Let it try. I'll rip its paws off and scratch his own ass with them!”
Michael laughed.
“What's so damn funny?” Scott asked, his eyes narrowing.
“A couple of things, I'm guessing,” Brendan said.
“Enlighten us, please,” Marcus said in his droll way.
“First”—Brendan held up a finger—“Scott didn't give two shits and an eff about Julia—hated her, as a matter of fact.” Brendan waited for a dissenting comment or grunt. When none came, he continued. “Second, the visual of you tearing off the paw of the Were that we saw at the compound and scratching its…” Brendan shook his head. “No, pal. Sorry. He's big-time feral in his pants.”
“And just big-time!” Jen agreed. “He's the biggest Were we've ever seen. Red, different.”
Scott frowned. So?
“In other words, it may take more than your pissed-off attitude to subdue this fella!” Michael said.
“Ah—” Marcus began, and they all looked at him. “That's where you're wrong.” he said slowly. “When a soul mate's partner is threatened, there may be more in the arsenal than what the Singer was bestowed with at birth.”
Scott's hand dropped from the knob. “What do you mean, Dad?”
“I mean that it is your singular purpose to protect and nurture her.” Marcus's eyes speared Scott's. “She is in the gravest danger right now, at her most vulnerable. Until this feral is caught and disposed of, he will not stop until he has her.”
“Will he kill her?” Jen asked.
“I do not know," Marcus said. “But ask yourself this.” They leaned forward to hear his last words. “Does anyone want to find out?”
Hell no! A primal yell sounded from deep within Scott, and against every intellectual imperative, his feet strode through the doorway and flung him up the stairs toward her room—toward Julia.
*
Julia threw branches away as they scraped past her. She crashed through the brush that threatened to stab her viciously. She was furious. The more she walked, the angrier she became.
It was useless, though. Being angry didn't matter. Letting go of the Singers and what she was did matter. Every step she took was a greater distance between she and Scott, and in her mind, she was happy.
But her heart grieved. She felt a little the way she had after Jason had died. But how could that be? She didn't even know Scott! In fact, he'd made a point of being an ass!
Julia rounded a stand of trees, and she stopped in her tracks. A massive Were stood in front of her, his green eyes pegging her intensely. She hauled in a lungful of air to scream, and he was on her, his hand that had talons twice the length of her fingers wrapping her mouth and tickling her ears.
Julia's vision grew dim, her fear making her bladder burn for release. As her world faded to gray, the last thing she saw were those emerald eyes staring at her.
*
The female lost consciousness, and the feral pressed her light body to his. He turned and ran, covering more ground than she could have on her own, his half-wolf form perfectly suited to the dense conditions of the forest. The burden of the female was an abiding comfort. It was the only time he had felt a sense of peace since he'd become… whatever he was now.
CHAPTER TWENTY-NINE
Scott put his hand on the multi-faceted knob, the crystal a solid weight under his palm, and turned it. The five-panel door swung inward on its own momentum. His eyes swept the sunlit room, missing nothing.
Julia was gone.
His heart thudded to a stop, the words he'd spoken crashing back into his mind with the weight of the ages. He found the flaw in the room: the window was open a crack, maybe two inches. The white curtains, like billowing fingers of smoke, fluttered with the breeze.
He walked to the window, his siblings entering Julia's room behind him. He stood at the window, the low sill pressing against his upper shins. Scott could clearly hear the voices of various people from a distance, the strange acoustics of the oddly formed bay accentuating the noises and amplifying them.
Julia would have heard everything he had to say about her down below—including his tone of hate and disrespect.
Scott hung his head, curling his hands into tight fists. He understood that she must have left before he had wrestled his emotions into some kind of basic order and prepared to right his wrong and give her some neutral deference.
Now she was gone and possibly in danger.
Grave danger.
Scott turned his back to the window. He spied something of hers and picked it up. It was a hoodie. He crushed it to his nose, inhaling the scent of Julia, his chest tightening with soul recognition.
His deep brown eyes flashed to those of his siblings and father.
“She's gone.” Guilt rode him mercilessly.
“Great,” Jen said.
“You pushed her away,” Brendan accused.
“You think?” Scott's eyes were twin holes of burning fury—at himself. “I screwed up. I got that. But now's not the time for talk.” He speared his brother with a look. “Can you find her?”
“Absolutely,” Brendan said then paused for a heartbeat. “The better question is: has he found her?”
They were all quiet for a moment with silent agreement. Then they turned and rushed out the door. Julia's hoodie was gripped in Scott's fist like a lifeline. He had never been so focused in his life. He needed to find her. All the bullshit legends of his childhood that he'd discounted—Singer royalty, soul-melding, all of it—was no longer legend.
It was his new reality.
They ran down the back stairs, the very ones Julia had used a mere hour before. Bursting out of the back door, Brendan tracked Julia to the forest's edge. His grave stare focused on Scott.
“What?” Scott asked. For the first time, terror sank its teeth into his psyche. Scott had never had need of fear. It was an alien emotion for him.
Until now.
“The feral's in these woods,” Brendan said, using the very words that Scott had not wanted to hear.
“Does he… has he…?” Scott's grip on Julia's sweatshirt made his knuckles turn white.
Brendan gave a single nod.
Scott yelled.
The feral's sensitive ears picked up a rage-filled bellow. He swiftly widened the breach between the Singers and himself. He picked up his pace, the girl in his arms unaware of who carried her.
Or who followed.
****
Were
Adriana felt as though her ass had been handed to her—as usual. She always felt that way when she was done “visiting” with Lawrence. She kicked a rock on the way out of his chamber. The word “chamber” wasn't really accurate. His quarters, as she preferred to think of them, were huge. She'd never been in his actual bedroom. They always met in his cavernous library, his great desk was like a mighty wooden ship in the center of a sea of books. She always felt like her own ship was sinking.
This time, he'd reamed her up one side and down the other. Tony had come up smelling like a rose—as always. It really rubbed Adi the wrong way that she was every bit the fighter he was, but when it came down to talon-to-talon, he'd best her. Her fists tightened. She had twice the heart that he had. But he was just that much bigger than she. If skill and training were equal, someone with all those pounds and muscle would be victor. It was the opposite of fair.
Sometimes she hated being female. Adi liked the one thing she had over him, though.
Ironically, it was her gender.
Tony was destined to mate with a female Were. He was second to her brother, Joseph, the most powerful Alpha in their region. Because of his station within the werewolf hierarchy, she should have looked at Tony as top on the list of potentials. That was how he'd looked at her until she made it clear she thought he was a Loser with a capital L. Now, his mate options were limited to females other than her. But Tony didn't really want a mate. He wanted a female Were trophy to parade under the snouts of all the other male Were that couldn't be mated to a female Were. There were too few. She smiled.
Adi enjoyed bristling Tony's fur every chance she got. He was so full of himself. Like today. He'd painted his role in the escape of the feral in such a way it made it sound as if she'd been irresponsible. That was not the truth. The truth was that he'd passed off a difficult chore to a female at the worst point of the month. And the feral had shown her a kind of mercy, tearing her shoulder out of its socket yet not killing her. Not so crazy after all.
Then there was the other question about the feral: who was he really?
Why the interest in the Rare One? Because no one could convince Adi differently: if he'd wished for escape earlier, he could have had it. No. He'd wanted Jules. Adi would have staked her life on it.
Tony followed her out with a smirk, whistling.
The asshole.
Then Joseph came, casting a look her way. She waited, and he walked over to her.
“You know, if you'd be a little”—he rolled his eyes skyward, searching for the perfect word—“softer with Tony, he'd cut you some slack.” He shrugged.
“No,” she responded shortly. “He can kiss my ass!” Adriana folded her arms across her chest. “I'll never suck up to him. Besides”—she looked at her brother again—“did you see how he made me look in front of Lawrence? He never does or says the right thing. Every verbal angle he plays is uttered for his benefit, never anyone else's.” Couldn't her brother see that?
Joseph said, “Tony is self-centered. But he's my second and an excellent fighter. It doesn't matter that you can't get along with him. You two will just have to reach some kind of mutual understanding to coexist.”
“Whatever!” Adi responded in a loud voice. “I'll just avoid his obnoxious carcass and try for civility.” She rolled her eyes then nailed Joseph with a solid stare. He raised his brows in question, and she plowed forward, changing tactics. “Who is the feral?”
Joseph sucked in his breath. “I can't say, Adi. I've been sworn to secrecy. You know that. We've been over it and over it—”
“It's for the safety of the pack,” she interrupted. “Blah, blah. Yeah, whatever. I gotcha. But I want to know why we would even keep a feral.” Her eyes shifted to his, searching, and a wild idea began to form. It couldn't be… “Does he have something to do with Jules?”
It was the barest flicker, but Adi caught it and snapped her fingers. “Tell me!”
Joseph sighed, holding up a palm. “We thought that if the Rare One needed… encouragement, we could use the feral.”
Adi scrunched her brows together. That didn't make sense. They stared at each other for several moments. She knew that Joseph could see her confusion.
“How? How could he coerce…?”
Joseph told her. It took almost a half hour, and when he'd finished, only the birds in the trees could be heard in the deafening silence that his revelation had left behind.
Her slap against his skin rang out, startling the birds, which perched on high branches to exchange the safety of the trees for that of the sky.
“How could you?” Her voice shook with contained rage.
Joseph let her slap him, hanging his shoulders in helpless guilt. “I should have fought harder against it.”
Adi's eyes narrowed on him. “Whose idea was this?”
Joseph didn't answer. His eyes were answer enough.
Of fucking course.
Adrianna stalked off in search of Tony. Joseph tried to grab her arm to stop her, and she tore it away from him, turning on him like the wolf she was. “Don't touch me! It was unforgivable.” Her eyes locked on to him. “You know what? It's good that the Singers took Julia. Maybe somebody can treat her like a human being instead of something to be manipulated. We don't deserve her.”
She strode off in search of Tony.
Joseph watched her go, his self-loathing a solid weight in his body.
In his soul.
****
William
William was hopeful. He clapped the Locator on his back as he left the kiss with a thank-you and the blessing of their lightwalker, Gabriel. A huge favor in the future was his collateral. It would hang over the coven's head. But if he could regain Julia, it would not matter. Their kiss's prosperity and importance would be solidified forever.
The Locator turned, giving William his steady regard. “You have the map?”
William nodded, and the vampire gave the barest smile of acknowledgment. “I wish you the best fortune in locating your Singer.”
They both knew that Julia wasn't just any Singer. But neither said it openly. They had put their competition aside for the moment, but a sister kiss trying for the Rare One was not beyond the scope of possibility. William was keen on not forgetting that basic fact.
He closed the door behind him and strode to where Claire and Gabriel waited. Gabriel looked up as William drew closer. His finger stabbed the map. “The Singers have powerful blocking in place from our location. But”—his eyes met William's—“the Locator was quite sure that this is the general region.” They all studied the area.
It was mountainous and densely wooded.
Perfect cover for retrieval by vampires.
William assembled runners. They packed their gear and went out on their last mission. If they could not retrieve Julia this time, he knew that his window of opportunity would have closed to nothing.
Once she was in the womb of the Singers, it would be an impossibility to get to her.
They afforded formidable protection that even his will and determination could not combat.
He imagined she would be important to them, as well, though perhaps not labeled “Rare One” as she was with the vampires and werewolves. Maybe for them she was something else entirely.
Julia would be royal among their kind, William decided. She would be like a queen.
*
The Feral
The feral swept the hair that had fallen across the face of the female away from her eyes and studied her. It made a sweet longing like the finest blood rise unbidden within his wolf form. It was almost enough to make him slide back into his human shape. But not yet. His strange, half-human form was the one he instinctively realized was best for the distance he needed. Even now, he could feel his kind chasing after them. They wanted the female.
He clutched her tighter to his body. Soon, he would need to feed and would have to leave her u
nconscious and unprotected for a time. He scowled.
He moved smoothly with the tiny female in his arms, a sense of rightness and purpose propelling him naturally. He searched until he was satisfied, finding the perfect den in which to hide her. Then he tucked her inside the small rock crevice. He backed away, his hunger a gnawing monster in his belly. Before he could compromise his strength further by lingering over her, he fled in search of prey. That would keep him busy for longer than he liked.
*
Julia woke up with darkness all around her and was chilled to the bone. She had a coat, but the damp coolness of her environment had sunk into her bones and weighed her down. She put her hands out in an exploratory movement and hit something solid. All around her, Julia could feel solid weight. She smelled the earth surrounding her.
The space felt like a tomb. Julia panicked, scraping the confines of the dark cave, whimpering in fear. But before she lost it totally, her memory slid into place, and she realized what had happened.
She remembered the great red werewolf. Actually, his fur was like wine. Not that it mattered. She closed her eyes tightly. What was she doing here? Where was he? What had he put her in?
Calm thyself, Julia!
Her lips set in a determined line, Julia lifted her head as high as she could without hitting the ceiling. Ambient light reached her eyes, and she could just make out her toes like twin hills in the distance. Julia thought that she might have been stuffed in some kind of hole.
For safekeeping.
She gulped, trying not to think of what that meant. Maybe a tasty meal for later? Julia shuddered at the thought. She needed to get the hell out of there! She experimented, wiggling around, and discovered that the only place of escape was where her feet were. Well… she couldn't move at all. She had maybe six inches on all sides.
It didn't matter. She'd never been more scared since that night—since Jason—but she wasn't going to give up yet.
She began to wiggle her butt like an inchworm, bunching her muscles then scooting forward, inch by inch. Julia knew when she made headway because she could see better. Finally, her legs were free of the hold, and she was able to bend her knees and drag her body farther, stabbing her heels into the dirt at her feet and pulling herself out incrementally. In less than five minutes, she was free. Even the dappled sunlight through the canopy of trees was bright and full of glare after the utter darkness of the hole she'd been in. Julia turned, squinting, and looked at where she'd been. It was a narrow slot at the base of a natural rock formation, barely more that a crevice.
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