Must Love Lycans

by Michele Bardsley

  “I cannot.”

  “Would you hurt him with the truth? He has the chance for a new life now. Let him have it.” She paused, and placed a slim, gloved hand on his cheek. “Swear it, Damian. Please.”

  His shoulders sagged, defeat in his gaze. “Very well, Alaya. I will honor your wish. For now.”

  “Always the caveat with you.” She laughed softly; then she turned to me. “You are Kelsey—Damian’s mate.”

  “Yes,” I said simply.

  “We never know what lies ahead, so all we can do is live each day fully, with hope.” She looked down at Jeff snuggled in my arms. “He’s adorable.” She scratched behind his ears, and Jeff rewarded her with a tongue-lolling.

  “I need to find Morrigu’s chalice,” said Damian. “My mother hid it somewhere.”

  “And Morrigu promised to save your mate if you returned it to her.” Alaya sighed. “It’s an ancient magic, an extension of the goddess who crafted it. It’s the cup from which Ruadan drank Morrigu’s dark blood, and became the first undead,” she said. “Now her blood will save the lycans, too.”

  “You know about the ritual?” asked Damian.

  “I received a vision,” she said.

  “Then you know where the chalice is?”

  “I know where it will be,” she said. Sadness threaded her voice. “And that your mate must be worthy, or your sacrifice will be for naught.”

  “What does that mean?” I said as foreboding crimped my stomach.

  “We will see soon enough.”

  Was it a rule that paranormal beings had to be cryptic? Talking to Alaya was like trying to get a straight answer out of the Caterpillar. He’d asked Alice the same question in a way: Who are you?

  I knew who I was. And who I wanted to be—Damian’s mate. So, go ahead, Fate, bring it.

  “We are preparing the main chapel,” she continued. “Tomorrow eve, our goddess and god will come home, and we will celebrate the marriage of our new alpha and his mate.”

  “Your vision confirms this?” he asked.

  “No, Damian.” She placed her gloved hands on our shoulders. “My hope does.”

  We made our way to the cellar and headed into the tunnel. Jeff insisted he be let down, but he made it only three feet under his own power. He decided that making his own way wasn’t as much fun as Mommy carrying him.

  He pawed at my calf and yipped, but Damian looked at him and said, “Scoot, runt.”

  Jeff plopped onto his butt and cocked his head at us.

  Damian tugged me into his arms. He kissed me, and I felt a whisper of good-bye in that hopeful meeting of lips. It made the nerves plucking my stomach tighten. Fear crept up my spine like icy spiders. What if I don’t make it?

  Damian pulled back, looked me in the eyes, and said, “I love you, Kelsey. And I will never love another. You are my mate.”

  His words destroyed my already wobbling psychic shield, and I leaned forward to take another kiss. “I love you, too,” I said, tears crowding my eyes. “And you are my one and only.”

  We stood there staring at each other. My heart was so full that I didn’t discern the wisps of hostility right away.

  I grabbed onto the emotion and tried to follow it to the source. I didn’t get too far, but whoever was leaking the emotion was close. “Damian.”

  “Go back,” he said, immediately concerned. “I’ll check—”

  We heard screams and crashes echoing into the tunnel. There were sounds of fighting, too, and then gunfire.

  “Run, Kelsey!”

  “Not without you.” I scooped up Jeff, my heart pounding, as a barrage of emotions ravaged me. Pain. Fear. Shock. Anger. Determination.

  “The priestesses are being attacked,” I whispered.

  “Go, damn it!” Damian spun me around and pushed me toward the direction of the castle. “Warn Hilda. She’ll know what to do.”

  Jeff whined in my arms, but I couldn’t leave Damian. I was sick with terror. I stumbled back, heading toward the temple.

  Damian was running toward the melee, and I followed clumsily, weeping, hugging the puppy tightly to my chest.

  When I caught sight of Damian, he’d just reached the point where the tunnel became the temple’s cellar. Military-garbed figures swarmed toward him, and then bright, loud pops of sound and color burst through the darkness.

  The force of the bullets jerked Damian off his feet.

  I screamed, and ran faster, Jeff clutched in my arms.

  One of the men stepped between Damian’s legs. Damian’s chest was shuddering, blood soaked his shirt and spattered his face, and through his rippling, awful pain, I felt a sudden, red-beauty-passion-love flow from him. It wrapped around me, and I clung to it fiercely. He wanted me to know that he loved me, before he—

  “No!” I cried. I stumbled to a stop, my horror so great I couldn’t breathe.

  A man dressed in black combat gear stepped forward, aimed a sleek, black pistol at Damian’s heart, and pulled the trigger.

  His body jerked, and then he went limp.

  Damian’s last emotion, his love for me, faded into nothing.

  One must die, so the other can live. Morrigu’s chalice appeared right in front of me. It spun slowly, as though dangling from an invisible wire, pulsing with gold light and old magic.

  I grabbed it and clutched it to my chest, pressing it next to Jeff, who was whimpering and shaking.

  It was too late. Too goddamned late. No, no, no!

  Rage and grief pounded through me, and I couldn’t keep the feelings inside. I screamed and screamed. Tears poured from my eyes, my throat clogged.

  “Take the girl and get that damned cup,” he ordered flatly. “Christ! Shut her the fuck up.” He pointed the pistol at Damian’s head.

  The whole world snapped into cold, clear focus.

  I know what you are, Kelsey. You must shed your old skin. You must walk in the darkness with me.

  Two men came forward and laid hands on my shoulders. But they could not move me. I wouldn’t let them.

  You will be who you were always meant to be. I understand my purpose. I understand your purpose.

  Jeff growled and snapped at them. Good boy.

  Blood will tell.

  I opened my senses wide and let myself feel everything. Pain. Grief. Loss. Love.

  They took from me.

  And so I would take from them.

  Everything.

  Take what’s yours, Wolf of Silver.

  “Don’t move,” I said, and I pushed out the command to them all, filling it with authority, coating it with fear. “You’re scared of me, you bastards. You’re fucking terrified.”

  Every soldier froze. Like statues. Like toy soldiers.

  Within me, their emotions pulsed, like a thousand heartbeats, but I controlled them. I could cull through them like hanging ribbons, choosing what I wanted, shredding, cutting, destroying.

  Stupid humans.

  I looked at the man who’d killed my mate.

  It was so easy. How simple it was to make him pay. Make them all pay.

  I reached inside him, deep where his fears lay, and pulled out the nastiest one. Claustrophobia. Then I draped it over him like a freshly spun web: You are being buried alive.

  He choked, dropping the gun, and fell to his knees. He was pushing at air, at nothing, tears clogging his eyes. “No,” he yelled. “Stop shoveling dirt on me!”

  “They stole from you,” I whispered to my jailers. I weaved in fury and betrayal, pushing those fetid emotions in so deeply, they would taint everything inside them. “Your money. Your women. Your homes. They took them.”

  Their gazes went glassy, their expressions turned murderous.

  They let go of me, drawing their guns as they marched toward the other soldiers.

  “You assholes!” one shouted. He started shooting.

  His friend joined in.

  I pushed wave after wave of fear, of greed, of fury out into the cellar. I planted emotion after emotion until they
were drowning in their own hatred. As I watched them destroy each other, I released their emotions, and the ribbons went liquid, bleeding away, like a painting caught in the rain, its colors running until the canvas was blank once more.

  Then I felt nothing. Nothing at all.

  Jeff whimpered and wiggled, until I crouched down and let him go. He ran barking toward the castle. “Good-bye,” I whispered.

  I sat down next to Damian. I held the useless chalice in one hand, and with the other, I grasped his cold, still hand.

  And waited.

  Chapter 14

  “Frau” I looked into the cornflower eyes of Eleonor. She was leaning over me, carefully keeping her gaze from Damian’s prone form. It was quiet now. Everyone was dead or gone. I idly wondered if any of the priestesses were still alive. Whatever had been in those bullets had been meant to kill lycans. Otherwise Damian wouldn’t have succumbed.

  I noticed then that Eleonor held Jeff, who gazed at me and whined. I reached out and patted the top of his head.

  “I’m fine,” I said. “I’m just waiting.”

  “For what?” she asked.

  “For it to be over. It’s almost the Solstice. If I don’t drink Morrigu’s potion, I won’t survive the change. There’s no point now, you see?”

  “You should not give up,” she said.

  “I’m making a choice.”

  She looked at me, her blue eyes mercurial. Huh. They looked gray now, and somehow oddly familiar. “Then, I, too, must make a choice.” She withdrew something long and silver and stabbed it into my shoulder.

  “Ow.” I stared up at her, dumbfounded. Her face wavered and I swore I saw the strong, masculine features of Jarred Dante superimposed on her waiflike features. Then my body went boneless, and I slid mercifully into unconsciousness.

  When I awoke, I was tucked underneath a thick comforter in a small, windowless room. Jeff lay curled up between my neck and shoulder, snuffling in his sleep. It was a wonderful two seconds.

  Until I realized Damian was dead.

  “Kelsey.” I looked up and saw Jarred sitting in a nearby chair, his gaze wary. “I couldn’t let you die.”

  “Didn’t you kill me?” I asked without rancor. “That serum of yours is what fucked everything up.”

  “I know. I should’ve realized the consequences before I authorized Dr. Ruthers to inject you. My judgment was . . . clouded.”

  “Thinking with your dick,” I said.

  “Wrong organ,” he said with a sad smile, and put his hand over his heart.

  That was kinda sweet, and the gesture made me feel bitchy, but I guess I had a right to feel however the hell I wanted. “What now?”

  “We fix you.”

  “I’d rather you didn’t,” I said.

  “Do you think Damian would want you to give up?”

  My heart clutched, and I tried to push down the grief. It came anyway. “Don’t play armchair psychologist,” I said. “It doesn’t suit you.”

  “And playing the victim doesn’t suit you.”

  I sighed, too weary to feel the jab of his very sharp point. “You’re going to do what you want no matter how I feel about it.”

  “I won’t do a damned thing if you plan on wasting your chance to live.” He stood up and straightened the sleeves of his jacket, once again looking untouchable and imperious. “Decide quickly. It’s already the Solstice. We’re two hours away from midnight.”

  I blinked up at him. “Already?” I’d been unconscious for a really long time. “You’ll get me to the temple?”

  He shook his head. “Your redemption should not be left in the hands of Morrigu.”

  I sat up. “Where’s the chalice?”

  “On the nightstand,” he said. I looked to my left. On the nightstand sat the goblet. The one Damian had died for. Why the hell would Aufanie sacrifice her son to make the chalice appear? It didn’t make sense. A blood sacrifice was needed to unlock the hiding place—which had been where? The cellar? The tunnel? The freaking ether?

  It didn’t matter. Not anymore.

  Jarred’s gaze searched my face. “Don’t get me wrong. Morrigu keeps her bargains. But she’s also very good at finding loopholes.”

  “You know her.”

  “Quite well,” he said.

  I studied him. “What are you?”

  “Maybe I’ll tell you one day. If you decide life is worth living.”

  My breath hitched. Damian. “Where is . . . Did someone . . . ?”

  “The priestesses will prepare him for funeral rites. I’m sorry, Kelsey,” he said, and I could actually feel wisps of genuine sympathy. “I truly am.” He tucked his hands into his front pockets and rocked back on his heels. “ETAC found him again. It’s a government organization that handles paraterrorism. They know about us, and they’re either killing us, or experimenting on us, or finding ways to extract our abilities.”

  “I know. That’s why they took Damian.” God. It felt like a lifetime ago that I’d been watching him pace in that induction room. He’d been so strong, so beautiful. How could that kind of vibrant life be snuffed out so cruelly?

  “I destroyed the lab after his extraction. Whatever intel they’d gathered is cyber dust, I promise you.” He sighed. “But ETAC’s new weapons were already in production. I managed to snag a couple of their weapons and their bullets in the tunnel. We’ll figure out their tech and create countermeasures.”

  “Who’s we?”

  “Mostly me,” he said.

  “So you’re a good guy?”

  “Sometimes.”

  Silence unfolded between us, and waves of grief crashed through me. My heart ached so much. “He’s not coming back, is he?”

  “It’s too late for him,” he said. “But not for you.” Jarred gave me one last pitying glance, then turned and left the room.

  I had no idea where I was, only that I knew it wasn’t Damian’s castle. What did it matter? I could be in France or South Dakota or hell. Who cared?

  I wanted to be with Damian, if not in this life, then the next. How did one go on after love was ripped away like that? I couldn’t fathom it. I couldn’t draw a full breath without feeling like razors were scraping my lungs. I understood now how Aufanie must’ve felt when she bargained for Tark’s life. Damian was a demigod. He shouldn’t have been felled by humans. By bullets. I couldn’t escape from the ache that stole through me. I felt like I had swallowed rocks and shards of glass and acid.

  Jarred was right. Damian wouldn’t want me to give up.

  I took the chalice and studied it, hoping for inspiration or wisdom or something. But it was just a freaking cup. Old, magical, and worthless.

  Except to Morrigu.

  Rules, my ass. She would help me, or I’d make sure her goblet was melted down into nothing.

  Fucking immortals.

  I didn’t want to eat, but Jarred insisted. I took a few sips of soup and then gave the rest to Jeff. I sat on the edge of the bed, feeling tired and chilled. I was wearing a set of pajamas that weren’t mine, and I couldn’t bring myself to care about the fact that Jarred had bathed and dressed me while I was still unconscious.

  “Morrigu isn’t going to be happy that I’m breaking the bargain.”

  “So long as she gets the chalice, she’ll consider the terms met.”

  “Will she?”

  “That’s up to you.”

  “So everyone tells me.” I scratched around Jeff’s ears while he finished off the soup. “If we’re doing this the science-y way then why are we waiting for midnight?”

  “Only thirty minutes more,” he said, ignoring my question.

  I put the empty bowl on the nightstand, then snuggled with Jeff and tried not to think about Damian. Or Damian’s lifeless body riddled with bullet holes, soaked in blood.

  All kinds of scenarios had entered my mind. The vampires could Turn him. His mother could breathe life back into him. Morrigu could let him drink from the chalice.

  Hope was a tiny flame inside
me, even though my own heart told me the truth: Damian was gone, and I was lost without him.

  “Do you feel that?” I said. The air felt electrified. Jeff lifted his snout, cocked his head, and then he barked. The hair on the back of my neck rose. Wary, I scooted off the bed, hugging Jeff, as I looked around the room.

  “Shit,” said Jarred. He stood up, too, and shoved the injector into my hand. “Skip Morrigu’s blood spells and use this.”

  “What?” Stunned, I looked at metal tube the size and shape of a cigar and then at Jarred.

  “The problem with the first serum was that I donated DNA in my weakest form. Still, my demigod blood was enough to disrupt the theria genotype’s natural process. It was trying to encode Damian’s DNA, but mine was just potent enough to, as you so kindly put it, fuck everything up.” He grimaced. “He’s getting through the protections faster than I thought possible.”

  “Who?”

  “Your friend,” he said with an almost smile. “The new serum includes lycan DNA coding.”

  “Dr. Michaels said that adding more lycan DNA could overload my system.”

  “It’s your choice,” he said. “Morrigu’s dark blood or my lycan DNA.”

  “But you’re not a lycan!”

  “I can be,” he said. “That’s my curse. I can be anyone. Anything.”

  “What does that mean?” Panic was started to claw through me. My heart pounded fiercely, and I felt an intense heat gather in my belly. “Why are you helping me?”

  “I’m the one who hurt you. I need to make this right.”

  “I appreciate that,” I said warily. “What, exactly, are you?”

  “I’m a therianthrope,” he said. “The only one left on this earth. And you are the daughter of the last known changeling. My last hope to find a mate.” His gaze filled with anguish. “I wished you could’ve loved me the way you love him.”

  “Oh, Jarred.” My heart broke for him, even though I was feeling wretched. My bones hurt, my muscles felt rubbery, and inside me, something foreign scrabbled, wanting out. The inner me, the werewolf who wanted to live.

  “Good-bye, Kelsey.” He disappeared. Literally. No sparkles, or electric air, or anything. Just gone.