by M. D. Massey
Samson had lost eyes before in combat, and that injury didn’t even give him pause. He followed his initial attack by moving in with an upward swipe of his left-hand claws that was meant to open me up from my groin to my breastbone. I saw that one coming as well and stepped back in while angling to his now blind right side, following through with a savage stomp to his right ankle that shattered the bones into dust.
Rather than allowing him the time to heal, I planted my foot to pin his broken leg to the ground. Then, I drove another kick up under his right ribcage with the ball of my right foot that turned his liver into so much wolf pâte. Finally, I grabbed his left wrist and pivoted to my right, pulling his forearm down over my left shoulder to dislocate it at the elbow by hyperextending it at ninety degrees.
From there I spun back toward him with a right horizontal elbow to his trachea, crushing it and driving the bones of the hyoid apparatus into his spine, partially severing it. This served to partially paralyze Samson, and as I hammered multiple strikes into his left and right collar bones—shattering them—he fell in a semi-boneless heap to the ground.
All this happened in less than a second.
But knowing what I knew about Pack healing magic, I was aware that he could draw on the Pack to heal him in the span of my next few heartbeats.
No time for mercy now, Colin.
Hating what I was about to do, but feeling I had little choice in the matter, I leapt atop the alpha, rolling him over as I took his back, jiu-jitsu style. I assumed a high rear triangle with my right leg under his right arm, and my left hooked over his left arm, foot tucked behind his back. That allowed me to get my left arm under his jaw while my right hand clamped his jaws shut in a figure-four lock.
It was a move that was only made possible due to his werewolf anatomy, which I’d studied at length since our last encounter. His elongated jaw and neck gave me space and leverage that I’d never have if I were fighting a human. The injuries I’d caused him were healing already, leaving me little time to vacillate. Knowing I had to finish this fast, I twisted counterclockwise, applying pressure on his already injured cervical spine.
“Yield,” I panted, ignoring the gasps and cries of the Pack members, who were still locked outside the circle by their own magic.
“N-no,” he growled.
Samson, you stubborn fuck.
“Remember, old man, you asked for this.”
With a quick twist of my upper body, I snapped his fucking neck.
6
The loud crack made by Samson’s neck snapping reverberated around the clearing, echoing off the nearby bluffs and around the glade. A collective gasp rose from the gathered Pack, then a hush fell as the magic that held them back vanished with Samson’s defeat. Yet, despite the lack of restraints keeping them at bay, none moved to enter the ring where I remained with their former alpha.
Something clicked deep inside my bond to the Pack, the same bond Samson had once used to heal me of life-threatening injuries. Then, I felt power entering me like a rushing wind, an influx of raw, wild magic that lit up my every nerve ending like a jolt of electricity. Instantly, I felt every single Pack member’s presence, no matter where they were—the dozens who surrounded Samson and me here, and those scattered across the map.
I wasted no time reveling in my newfound senses, as there was only one Pack member’s location that mattered. As I disentangled myself from Samson’s body—which was still breathing, barely—I sifted through the Pack bonds until I found my answer.
There.
Fallyn’s presence was distant but strong. She was alive, and well, apparently. And I knew exactly where to find her.
I stood and swept the Pack with my gaze, knowing that I couldn’t afford the luxury of portalling away without addressing the elephant in the room. Most of them lowered their eyes in deference, but a few played the staring game just a moment too long. After making note of the defiant ones, I knelt beside Samson, drawing on the Pack’s magic suddenly and harshly as I laid hands on my friend.
Channeling their combined power, the Pack bonds healed the old wolf nearly instantaneously in a rush of wild magic. Bones cracked and reset with grinding, cracking protestations, organs regrew, and vertebrae realigned. The act of healing Samson in that manner took a toll on the rest of the ’thropes present, but it was necessary, as leaving the former alpha in that state would’ve been a death sentence.
First, Samson reverted to his human form. Then, he sat up, rolling his shoulders out and popping his neck as if he’d just awoken from a long nap. The son of a bitch looked me in the eye and gave me a short nod. I stood, locking hands with him as I pulled him off the ground.
“Samson’s in charge ’til I get back,” I said, addressing the entire audience. “Anyone who fucks with him will deal with me. Not the nice me—the other guy. Until my return, it’s business as usual.”
No one moved a muscle, and instead the Pack stood there staring at us in disbelief. That lasted a few seconds until their former alpha spoke up. “You heard him—move!”
After the Pack scattered, he turned to me with a wry grin. “I couldn’t tell you, you know. As it turns out, alphas also have someone they answer to—you’ll find that out, soon enough.”
I shook my head. “I didn’t want to do this, but I figured as much.”
“You going after her?” he asked, more a statement than a question.
“As long as you’re good here.”
Samson’s expression soured. “You weren’t exactly my first pick for her—you know that, right?”
“I’m well aware at this point,” I deadpanned.
“Smart-ass.” He paused, rubbing the back of his neck. “The truth is, I’m tired, kid. And I’ve been tired for a long, long time. I’d have turned everything over to Fallyn years ago, but I worried that the Pack wouldn’t accept a female alpha.”
“And then there’s the problem of ascendancy,” I said.
“Yeah, she’d never have been able to take me out. But now, with you as her mate…”
I clapped him on the shoulder. “Don’t worry, I have a plan. You’ll see.”
He chuckled. “Now you really got me worried.”
“That’s a father’s job, to worry. But believe me when I say it’ll all work out.”
“If you say so… alpha,” he replied archly.
“You say that like it’s a curse.” When he failed to answer, I decided to leave it at that. It wasn’t like I’d be alpha for long, after all. “I’ll need to speak with you and Luther both when I get back. Stay frosty, old wolf.”
“Always. You watch your ass, ’cause you’ll be coming in hot. Best you shift again before you try to extract her.”
“Will do. Any other advice or insight you care to give?”
He crossed his arms, stroking his beard as he considered his words. “Can’t say much, as I’m compelled not to. But I will say Fallyn’s not all she appears to be, and half of what she is, she got from her mother.”
“That’s a familiar theme, lately.” I contacted the Oak, getting it ready to portal me close to Fallyn’s location. “I’ll be back shortly with your daughter.”
“Let’s hope,” Samson said, grim-faced as he turned to head back to the clubhouse. He glanced over his shoulder to provide me with a bit of parting advice. “Now, I have to make sure the Pack doesn’t implode before you get back. Steel yourself, kid. They won’t give her up easy.”
I watched him leave, then I got dressed in a set of clean clothes from my Bag. After that, I loaded two Glocks with silver ammunition, holstering them under the bulletproof jacket Maureen had gifted me. Finally, I cast Mom’s obfuscation spell on myself and told the Oak to send me to Switzerland.
I’d never been to the Swiss Alps, but I’ll be damned if it wasn’t as scenic and picturesque as the movies and magazine articles made it out to be. The Oak dropped me roughly a quarter-mile from Fallyn’s location, just inside the tree line overlooking a rolling meadow. Below me, a small village reste
d on the shores of a crystal-clear lake, the whole of it nestled in a secluded valley that looked like a scene from a Hallmark card.
The day’s activities had made me hungry, so I dug some trail bars and water from my Bag as I observed the town below. Based on the layout, it seemed to have cropped up around the much older-looking, castle-like structure on the far side of the lake. A single paved road snaked through the village, leading up to a huge, wrought-iron gate, the only entrance or exit in the tall, stone wall that surrounded the castle grounds.
As I looked closer, I noticed other, smaller buildings scattered inside that wall, most partially obscured by the tall pines that densely populated the area. The style of the castle and outbuildings was a strange mixture of gothic, baroque, and neoclassical architecture. While everything had been built from the same weathered, gray stone blocks, it was apparent that the castle had been built first, with other buildings added over many centuries.
The more I looked at it, the more I realized that the place was laid out like a university or a private school. I even spotted teenagers and college-aged kids walking around the town and castle grounds in uniforms, carrying book bags and backpacks, and in some cases, weaponry. The kit they carried ran the gamut from modern firearms to swords, spears, and maces.
Then, I spotted the cameras. They had surveillance everywhere.
If this is a school, then what the hell are they teaching here?
Thus far, I hadn’t a clue, but it sure wasn’t college prep. All I did know was that Fallyn was inside that castle, and I intended to find her and bring her with me back to Austin. That was, if she wanted to go.
No time like the present to find out.
After I finished my snack, I kept the obfuscation spell active and instructed the Oak to portal me onto the campus grounds. Instead of making me land inside the wall, it plopped me down outside the seemingly unguarded front gates. When I queried the Oak to see what the matter was, it sent me an image of a tall, thorny hedge surrounding a well-maintained garden home.
Intrigued, I shifted my vision into the magical spectrum. Lo and behold, the wall and gates were warded against intrusion via portal as well as physical trespass. And not just with any magic, oh no—this was first-rate wardwork, likely done by someone who’d been working with magic for millennia.
In short, the place had been warded by a god.
Normally, I’d sneak around for a while, observe the goings-on around the place, and steal a ward key off one of the students so I could enter the grounds. But frankly, all the bullshit I’d experienced over the last seven months had made me impatient and cranky as all fuck. So, I got undressed, tossing the guns and all my clothes inside my Bag before shifting into my full Fomorian form. Just as I was about to drop my obfuscation spell, I heard someone clear their throat behind me.
I spun in a crouch to find a regal, fair-skinned woman sitting cross-legged on a large rock not fifteen feet from me. She wore black stretch denim pants, a loose, dark-blue mock-neck sweater, and a pair of black, high-heeled Louboutin boots. She wore no makeup, as she had the sort of smooth, lightly freckled ivory skin—with just the right flush on her cheeks, mind—that required no enhancements or embellishments.
Long red hair fell in loose curls around her face and neck, complementing her heart-shaped face, strong cheekbones, bright blue eyes, pixieish nose, and full, downward-turned lips. She smiled at me as she lazily tapped a toe in midair, leaning in with an elbow on her knee, looking for all the world like she belonged exactly where she sat.
Maybe it was the eyes that gave it away, but I recognized her immediately. “Macha.”
“You’re about to commit suicide, you know,” she said, still smiling and slowly tapping her foot. “This place is directly protected by a goddess.”
“Yeah, I noticed the ward work on the gates and wall.” I didn’t really care about that. I just wanted to find Fallyn. Still, Macha had helped me before in Mag Mell, so I figured it wouldn’t hurt to hear her out. “So, what’s the deal with this place?”
“It is a werewolf stronghold. Here they train their finest to do battle against their enemies, under the direct oversight of the Alpha Prime. Dozens of dominant werewolves with alpha potential reside here, and their patron goddess protects it directly. ‘God-killer’ or no, assaulting the facility would be the end of you. I’m certain of it.”
I snorted in disdain at that last part. Being in my Fomorian form always did make me a bit cockier than usual. “This spell tricked Badb rather easily. How is it you can see me? And more importantly, how did you know to find me here?”
Macha’s laugh was a soft, tinkling sound. “Once the fianna were dedicated to me, and I to them. They waged war on the enemies of their people, and I rewarded them for doing so with a war goddess’ favor. As you are the last rígfénnid, well—I could find you anywhere, druid. With enough effort.”
“Hmph. I guess it’s a good thing you’re not working with Badb.”
Her smile morphed into a crooked frown. “My sisters forget their place. One wants nothing but to perfect the arts of war, while the other seeks power beyond her ken. I alone still perform the duties of our station, and I have a keen interest in seeing that the fianna do not die out completely.”
“And that’s why you’re helping me?”
Macha batted her eyelashes at me. “My dear boy, I told you once that I rather enjoy the death and bloodshed that follows where’er you travel. For one of my fénnid to be so warlike in these modern times, well—it serves my interests to see that you do not meet an early grave.”
Turning away from Macha, I gave the castle a forlorn look. “Fallyn is in there, somewhere. They have her, and for some reason, they’re keeping her from me. That’s reason enough for me to risk it.”
“Indeed. They’ve clouded her mind, that much is certain. Perhaps to save her from suffering the indignity of knowing what Diarmuid did to her, or to keep her from returning to you.” As the Morrígna continued, her voice took on an almost kind tone. “Only a powerful alpha could manage to keep a dominant werewolf mind-wiped for this long. You should know, she may not recognize you when she sees you. In fact, she might not recall the love you shared at all.”
“Fallyn wouldn’t forget me, not completely,” I said, keeping my eyes on the castle. “So, what do you propose?”
“What if I could take you directly to the she-wolf? The goddess guards this place, true, but I have ways of circumventing her security measures.”
Cradling my chin in my hand, I considered what Macha offered. The Tuath Dé never gave anything without asking something in return. “You can get me close enough to speak with her? Without causing the supernatural equivalent of World War III?”
“I can, and I can give you enough time to make your case. If she wishes to leave here and return with you, then I will assist you in that endeavor.”
“And what’s in it for you?”
“In exchange for this boon, I ask only one thing. Namely, that should you ever form a fiann of your own, you dedicate it to me. That is all.”
Well, it’s not as though I plan to resurrect the fianna any time soon.
I nodded, once. “Fine, do it. But even if this works and I get Fallyn back, I’m still not worshipping you.”
“Oh, but the lives your fiann may take will more than make up for it. Now, if you could shift into a more manageable size?”
“What if we have to fight our way out?”
“The idea is to avoid fighting at all. The smaller the portal, the easier it will be to conceal.” The goddess glanced down at my spandex jockeys, arching an eyebrow as she did so. “Besides, you don’t want to frighten the poor girl off before you even have a chance to make your case.”
After I’d shifted back into my semi-human form and dressed—with no small amount of embarrassment, I might add—Macha led me around the back side of the grounds. Once we found a blind spot in their surveillance net, the goddess cast a small portal and wasted no time ducking through. I fo
llowed close behind, knowing that the longer she held it open, the greater the likelihood we’d be discovered.
We exited into a long, narrow hallway with a flagstone floor and plastered walls painted a deep red, embellished with dark wood wainscoting and decorated with tapestries that looked to be older than most Western nations. A maroon carpet runner ran the length of the hall, which had doors every twenty feet or so staggered on either side. The doors were constructed of thick oak planks banded with iron and held together by studded iron nails and rivets. To round out the whole “Castle Dracula” vibe, wrought iron wall sconces retrofitted with candlestick fixtures lit the hallway in a pale-yellow luminescence.
“My, what big clichés you have,” I muttered as I took in the decor, earning myself a look of derision from Macha.
“Quiet, fool,” she whispered. “Else you’ll bring a dozen alphas down on our heads.”
Giving the goddess a “lips zipped, key tossed” gesture, I used my new Pack sense to home in on Fallyn’s room. Macha had done a decent job of bringing us close to her location, as the door in question was just a few steps down the hall. After tiptoeing over to it, I stared at the door and took a few deep breaths to calm myself down before knocking.
C’mon, Colin—you can do this.
Macha nudged me with her elbow. “If you wait much longer, someone will discover us. Time to shit or cover the hole, lad.”
Not wanting to look like a coward in front of the nice goddess of war and death, I raised my fist to rap on the door—just as it opened wide enough for the barrel of an Uzi to be shoved in my face. I froze in place, taking in the scene. There stood Fallyn, submachine gun in one hand and a Bowie knife in the other, looking at me like I was the dumbest motherfucker on the planet.
“Colin—what the hell are you doing here?” She poked her head out the doorway to look right and left. “And how did you get past security?”
