I laugh and offer Lonny my hand. He grabs it, makes to stand, and in that moment Tornarsuk the Indestructible charges through the dust and straight at us.
I fling Lonny out of harm’s way, then duck through the giant polar bear’s legs as the blood-maddened beast tries to trample me.
“What the fuck?” I roar, pissed beyond reason.
Tornarsuk whirls. Glares at me with three glowing black eyes.
Kill-lust has pushed him out of his mind.
The bear opens his huge jaws—
I have just enough time to whisper an oh fuck before Tornarsuk’s booming roar crashes into me and Lonny. The sound waves pick us both off the ground and toss us fifty feet through the air. We land in a crumpled heap. I spit a mouthful of sand, snap my dislocated shoulder back into place and face Tornarsuk, but he’s already wandered off into the battle.
“He one of yours?” Lonny asks.
“My bloodmate’s brother.”
Lonny grins. “All right then. Makes perfect sense he’s pissed at you”
We turn back to the battle. A billowing wall of dust and smoke rises up before us, obscuring everything. I can only see a foot or two in front of my face, but it feels like the fighting’s quieted.
The RPG’s have stopped.
So has most of the gunfire
Lonny and I share a glance.
“Looks like you arrived at the right time,” I tell him.
“You calling me a chickenshit?”
I watch a trickle of red blood leak down my friend’s forehead. I have no idea how it happened, but Lonny’s a Pureblood again.
I healed him.
I lift my clawed fists to they sky and howl. If we’ve won my crew will answer. If not the remaining Stricken will hear me and come barreling out of the dust—
A few seconds pass.
Nothing.
Lonny shoots me a questioning glance.
“What?” I say. “You want me to turn you again? Afraid you backed the wrong horse?”
Lonny’s about to answer when Nash chatters and barks from my left. Blue roars on the other side. Tate and Mia hiss and scream. I hear a hundred Pureblood calls rising over the dust. Then I hear a sound that lifts every fibre of my spirit: my bloodmate’s call.
I roar, a long wail of greeting intended for my bloodmate only. She’s still on the ground, but through my shadow wolves I see her sit up. The wound in her throat has healed. Then shapes begin emerging from the dust, shadowy silhouettes backlit by the glaring sun, an army of blood-hungry motherfuckers, and only when I see my packmates walking from the killing field does it hit me: we might have a fucking chance.
To win this war.
To survive.
***
The bitch about being an apex alpha is the work never ends.
What I should be doing is getting right fucked up with my crew, Lonny especially. Blowing off steam. Maybe—if the universe is kind—having a juicy round of make-up sex with my hot-as-hell bloodmate.
But no.
What I am doing is leaning against a Harley, arms crossed, scowling as I deal with a territorial squabble between a bitchy Pureblood fox and an insanely stubborn and thick-headed Pureblood wolf. The fox, a smallish, quick-eyed redhead motherfucker, is nattering on about his land, how the wolf moved in on it and fucked up the fox’s hunting, etc. The wolf, named Max, I think, keeps snarling and spitting in a way that makes me think he’s about to open the fox up.
I’m pretending to listen, but mostly I’m tuning them out, thinking about all the shit I have to do before we roll. Bandage the wounded. Loot the Stricken corpses. Find water. Fix the bikes.
And these whiny motherfuckers keep going back and forth—
I’m also fielding questions from the crew. Glares from the two women in my life. My head’s pounding. My wounds are just beginning to heal. I should tell these motherfuckers to—
“Fuck off,” I snap. “Both of you. Fuck off and deal with your own bullshit. I don’t have time to listen to every pissy little squabble in my pack.”
Both the fox and the wolf stare at me, wide-eyed.
I drop fang and growl, “You both fucking deaf? Figure it out.”
The two squabblers share a quick glance.
“What?” I yell. “You don’t like it? Poor fucking leadership? All right. How about this?” I take a coin from my pocket and tell them, “Heads for the fox. Tails for the wolf. Whoever loses never sets foot in the disputed territory again.” I flip the coin, snatch it from the air—
“Aaron,” a cool, voice says beside me.
I look at the coin. It’s for the fox.
“Aaron.”
Blue’s leaning beside me. Dude’s fucking huge. Still smattered in blood. A wicked cut across his shoulder and upper arm’s just beginning to heal. But his golden eyes are bright and guileless, and combined with his mop of sandy hair he looks almost boyish.
“What?” I snap, sounding way too pissed.
“He needs a moment,” Blue says to the douchebag bitches standing in front of me, waiting to hear the coin’s verdict.
“I do? Why?”
Blue glares at me. “You just do.”
The two Purebloods pause for a long moment, staring at me in a way that makes my skin crawl. “You fucking heard him,” I say, pocketing the coin. “Piss off.”
They wander off, leaving me and Blue alone.
He folds his arms and gives me a harrumph that’s damn close to motherly.
“What’s up your ass?” I say, lighting a smoke and settling in for one of the old-school good-guy lectures Blue is famous for. My stomach kind of lurches at the thought, though. What I really need is some trim—
“You don’t need to listen to all their disputes personally,” Blue says, his voice a low growl. “Maybe that was possible when you were Prez of a biker MC. But now you’re—”
“The motherfucking One We Answer To.”
“Yeah. How many Pureblood we got here? Couple hundred? Soon that’ll be a thousand. Then more and more. You called them, Aaron, and they’re coming. From every rat-infested corner of the globe. And they all have beefs and rivalries and claims.”
I take a long drag of the smoke, think about calling Nash over to hook a brother up with that Bolivian, then say, “Fuck ‘em. I should’ve demanded a blood challenge. Dumb money would land on the wolf. But that fox was quick and wily. I saw it in his eyes—”
“The disputes and arguments are only going to get worse,” Blue says. “Especially if we carve out that territory on the Westcoast like we talked about.”
“I might just carve out my own territory. Big enough for me and my bloodmate.”
Blue shakes his head. “See? It’s that kind of shit that’s not cool, Prez. You said you’d lead. These fuckers answered your call, risked their lives because of that promise. Saying shit like that…it plants doubt. Maybe not enough to notice. But next time there’s a battle, and we’re charging in, that doubt will be there, needling at the back of your packmate’s minds, weakening them.”
I grind the smoke out with my heel. “Maybe you should be alpha. Since you have all the answers.”
Damn. I sound like a petulant little bitch.
Blue’s golden eyes are suddenly a lot less boyish and a lot less happy-go-lucky. “That’s not how this works, Aaron. And you know it. You were chosen.”
“That’s right. I was chosen. But did I choose?”
I find a bottle of tequila in the Harley’s saddlebag and take a long swig, partly to hide how fucked up I’m feeling. Damn. An hour ago I was riding the most powerful wave of my life. Now I feel like a whiner who’s about ready to slink into the desert. The tequila burns in my belly.
“I healed him,” I say to Blue.
Blue gives me a questioning glance.
I nod toward Lonny, who’s sitting on a rock, loading a heavy calibre machine gun. “The panther. You weren’t with us yet. Lonny there turned Stricken after…fuck it. Point is, it was my fault. And then here in the
battle he attacked me. But I turned him back. His blood runs red.”
I take another swig while Blue digests this information.
He’s quiet so long I finally give a quick laugh and say, “That something, or what?”
“Yeah. That’s something.”
Blue doesn’t say anything more. The fucker.
He’s waiting for me to blab—
“I don’t know what’s going on,” I say, real quiet. “Inside me? I don’t know what the fuck I am anymore.”
My oldest friend nods but stays quiet.
“And Lily? Fuck sakes. She took off, bro. In the middle of the night…” My voice trails off. I hand the tequila to Blue.
He drinks, swishes the booze in his mouth, swallows, then says, “You turned black blood to red, Aaron. You know what this is. All the rumors and myths and legends you dismissed over the years as bullshit…they’re all coming true. The Purebloods live and die as their alpha lives and dies.”
Disgust twists my features. “Someone’s fucking laughing at Aaron Arud right now.”
“Good. Bastard needs to learn how to take a joke.”
I think on that for a second, then say, “So you think I can turn any Stricken? Or just Lonny?”
“One way to find out.”
I look out over the battlefield. The dust has mostly cleared. My crew is just beginning to drag the Stricken corpses into piles for burning. I’d instructed them to kill any injured Stricken they found. But now I’m thinking about what happened with Lonny. The buzzing, tingling energy in me. I turn to Blue and say, “Set up a territorial council. Headed by you, Nash…and Mia. The council acts as a buffer between me and the day-to-day bullshit. Keep me informed on what matters. Otherwise, leave me the fuck alone.”
“That’s a lot of power to hand over.”
“Doesn’t matter. Like you said. I was chosen. You weren’t. Plus…in case you haven’t figure this out yet…I trust you useless fuckers unconditionally.”
Blue nods. Takes a swig of tequila. Slaps my back so hard I feel like kicking him.
“Don’t look so psyched,” I say, scowling. “You’re going to be babysitting whiny bitches until the end of time.”
“End of time? So…another day or two? Last I heard we still have an ancient war to fight. A prick named Vuk to murder.”
“Yeah. About that,” I say, remembering the pale, skinny guy on Anik’s back and the tremor of revulsion that passed through me. I scan my crew, searching for Lil.
She’s gone.
“Fuck sakes,” I mutter.
“What is it, Prez?”
“Nothin’. Same bullshit.”
Tate wanders over, a fat-as-hell blunt hanging from the corner of his mouth. The rasta’s dreads are matted with blood and filth, but he’s grinning.
“The Komodo fed like a motherfucker,” I say, plucking the blunt from Tate’s lips. “Good on you.”
Tate doesn’t even blink as I take a long hit. “I’m interrupting something?” he says, looking between me and Blue.
“Any Stricken still alive?” I ask.
Tate shrugs. “A couple. Not for long.”
“Bring one over here.” I hand the blunt back, then settle onto the Harley as the dope works its magic. I find myself grinning.
Tate smiles. “That’s better, Prez. You were looking all kinds of stressed.” Tate passes the blunt to Blue, then says, “You need another feed?”
“Nah,” I say. “I’m fucking stuffed. But bring me a live one. I wanna see just how gangster I really am.”
CHAPTER SEVENTEEN
LILY
“MY DAUGHTER TOOK a nasty bite out of you, sister. Who was it? Vora? I hope so. She was my favorite.”
Vuk’s chained to a saguaro cactus. Lying on his side, curled into himself, shivering. There’s a pool of dried black blood beneath his shoulder. Trish is standing over him, feet firmly planted, her Glock held in both hands and pointed right at my brother’s head. Girl’s been standing like that for nearly two hours. She looks exhausted.
I ignore Vuk and say to Trish, “We need to move him.”
“He doesn’t have long, Lil.”
“I don’t have long, Lil,” Vuk says, mimicking Trish’s voice. “Time’s wasting. Think of little Pimniq. The poor child.”
“The Purebloods are gunna want him dead,” Trish says.
“We all want him dead. Just not yet.”
“You could feed me,” Vuk whispers. “A Pureblood heart will strengthen—”
“Not gunna happen,” I say.
Vuk sighs. Lays his head in the hot sand. I stare at him, remembering how powerful his animal is, trying to make the image of the ruddy-red wolf with the praying mantis head gel with this wounded, sorry sack of shit that’s bleeding out at my feet. It would be so simple to murder him. Just snap his fucking neck. It would only take a moment—
“Do it,” Vuk whispers. “Embrace vengeance. Bloodshed. How many did you just murder? You can’t fight it forever, Lily. It’s who you are.”
My hand drifts to the burn in my chest where the tiger Minion’s blood burned me. The burn still stings, a throbbing pain that wraps around my throat. “I’m nothing like you,” I say firmly.
“You didn’t enjoy the killing?”
“I…” My voice trails off. There’s no use lying. Of course I enjoyed it. My creature relished it. Vuk knows this. “That was different,” I tell him. “That was war.”
“This is war!” Vuk hisses. “My war. You could end it now—”
“Kill him, Lil,” Trish says, her voice as deadly sharp as a blade.
“Trish, lower the Glock.”
Trish pauses. Looks in my eyes.
“Lower the Glock, Trish. Now.”
A burst of breath escapes Trish’s lips. Hands shaking, she lowers the gun.
“Our son is in danger,” Vuk says.
A shiver traces down my neck. “What?”
“Lachlan. He’s in danger. I might not have my animal, but I can still sense my bloodline. Shiori’s…well. She’s doing what any ambitious predator would.”
“She’s making to usurp your rule. Making a claim to alpha.”
Vuk smiles wanly. “Power inspires loyalty. Nothing else. Do you think your Pureblood dog would lead, if his pack didn’t fear his power?”
“You don’t know Aaron.”
“I know him quite well. Perhaps better than his pretty bloodmate. War creates a peculiar intimacy. Aaron and I…have been warring one another for a very long time. I’ve grown rather fond of the hot-tempered mutt.”
“Trish, help me get him on the bike.”
“You think Aaron will permit me live? Then you know the wolf not at all. He can’t let me live. His pack will demand my death. They care nothing for Pimniq. They’ll turn on him. Tornarsuk will go berserk, rightly fearing if I’m lost so is his sister—”
I pause, imagining the three-eyed bear rampaging through the Purebloods.
“Yes, sister. Not a pretty sight. Travel with me now to the Pyramid of the Sun. Bring Anik. Reunite our brother with his sister.”
“You don’t give a fuck about Anik,” I say. Something’s not sitting right. “Why did you track me down? Why not go to the pyramid yourself?”
Vuk licks his lips.
“Because Shiori would’ve murdered you. That’s why. You couldn’t let her see you like this. Weak as a Skin. Pathetic. You came to me because you knew—”
“That you would protect me. Even after all I’ve done. You want to forgive me. Want to believe there’s hope. I see it in your eyes, sister. You hope forgiving me will force me to see the error of my ways. Hallelujah and …poof! Vuk the monster becomes Vuk the saint. You want to be my savior. There’s power in being a fallen man’s salvation. Maybe…you even blame yourself for what I am. Maybe if you’d done something different? Back when we were children nipping for mother’s teat. Maybe it could have all been different? Is that right? Is that what you believe?”
My mouth’s so dry and my chest
so tight I can hardly swallow.
Vuk struggles to sit. His breath arrives in quick, pained gasps, but his black eyes burn. “There’s more. Even if I am unrepentant. Truly…evil. You believe I hold the key to our son’s heart. Maybe if you show Lachlan what it means to forgive such a monster…he will forgive you for abandoning him. See? It’s not me you care about, dear sister. It’s what I can provide you. How I can serve you.” Vuk spits. “You’re a liar and a hypocrite. I’m alive only because you need me. But that’s as it should be. That’s natural law. The strong abuse the weak. Use them for their own ends. Only…at least have the courage to admit this truth to yourself. Self-deceit is a failing of Skins. Your animal is stronger than that. If you permit her be.”
Vuk’s words are barbs sinking into the most tender, hidden places of my soul and shredding me wide open. I do want to forgive. I do want my son to see that forgiveness. And I want to know it was me who saved both my brother and my son.
Turned them from evil—
“Be strong, Lily. Accept what you are. I am delightfully unrepentant. United with my animal, I will commit horrors beyond imagining. The Atrocity was a practice run compared to what I intend in the Age of Discord—”
“Gag him,” I say to Trish, my voice a faltering whisper. “Gag him and lets move.”
“He’s playing you, Lil,” Trish says as she stuffs a wad of cotton in my brother’s mouth. “I don’t see it yet. But he’s playing you. He knew you wouldn’t kill him. Knew you’d protect him. And now we’re taking him to the one place he wants to go—”
“He’s not playing me, Trish,” I say, crouching to lift Vuk to his knees. “I know exactly what he wants. He wants his animal freed. He wants to Become. But he only has two Risen. Shiori and my son. Rodas defied him. I don’t know why. But he did. My son will turn on him as well. My brother will never Become. So I murder Shiori and get Pimniq back. My brother dies a Skin. Abandoned and powerless. The One War will end.”
“I hope you’re right, hun,” Trish says as we drag my brother toward Anik’s Harley. “Because if not? I’m really gunna wish you’d let me kill him.”
***
The All Consuming: A Shifter MC Novel (Pureblood Predator MC Book 4) Page 15
