Deceitful Circle (Silent Circle Book 2)

by Cassandra Larsen

  Anton wines and hunches his shoulders to make himself smaller. I look back at Gray questioningly.

  “Go ahead. He won’t hurt you,” he tells me, his eyes taking in the battle around us.

  I turn back to the cowering wolf and hesitantly put my hands on either side of the gaping wound. Closing my eyes, I try to remember what Caiden showed me earlier in the week.

  I imagine a glowing light in my chest, getting brighter and brighter. Slowly, I push that light out, down along my arms and into Anton’s body. I feel his flesh heat up, but when I peek my eyes open, nothing’s happening. The wound isn’t closing.

  When I healed Caiden, all I had to do was channel my energy into him. Why isn’t it working now?

  I put all my energy into the wolf in front of me. Slowly, an image of the gash appears, still oozing blood. I focus on bringing the flesh together, sealing it closed, forcing the skin to knit.

  When I open my eyes again, the cut is partially fused, no longer bleeding. Getting the hang of it, I close my eyes once more and finish the job, sealing the wound completely.

  This time when my eyes open, his chest is smooth and unmarked, the drying blood matted into his fur the only sign that he was injured.

  “Thank you,” Gray says, laying a hand on my shoulder.

  I look back at Gray, but my eyes are soon drawn to the battle the rest of the coven is engaged in. Witches shrieking, crying out in fear and pain, blood streaming from torn up flesh. Wolves falling to the ground, bleeding or burnt, some lying unconscious in the dirt.

  “This is chaos,” I shout to Gray. “We have to do something or they’re going to end up killing each other.”

  His silver eyes assess the scene, noticing the same thing.

  “I’ll go help Vasily. You find whoever is next in line for coven leader. We need to get them to stop and listen.”

  I nod and take off for Mirowski. I have no idea who would be next in line, but maybe he’ll know. I spot him off in the distance and sprint toward him.

  “You need to get them to stop!” I yell as soon as I’m in shouting distance. “The pack doesn’t want to hurt us! Just listen to them!”

  He scrutinizes me for a moment, and then surveys the clearing. His expression turns speculative.

  “Look at them!” I shout. “They aren’t trying to hurt anyone, they’re just protecting themselves! We need to stop them before someone gets killed!”

  He eyes me again before calling Arianna over. “We need a storm,” he explains quickly. “Torrential rain, lightning, anything to get their attention.”

  Mirowski closes his eyes, focusing his energy, then brings his arms out to his sides, palms up as rain begins pounding the earth, great sheets of icy water drenching everyone. Thunder booms from overhead and lightning streaks across the sky, eliciting gasps and shrieks all around.

  Then Mirowski opens his eyes and a bright flare of light bursts from his body. He lifts one foot and slams it down with a deafening boom. The earth beneath his foot splits open, rumbling and shaking as the crevice slowly expands, creeping outward in both directions.

  “HALT!” He roars, shocking the witches and weres both. “The fighting needs to stop now!”

  The fissure in the earth continues to grow, causing several people to back up to avoid falling into it. The rain lets up to a steady patter, thunder dying down.

  “Look around you!” He shouts. “Look what we have come to! Our High Priestess murdering a fellow witch, harming a defenseless human, and kidnapping one of our own coven members, all in her quest for revenge? And for what? For protection against some unknown enemy?”

  “The enemy is not unknown! They stand before you now!” Richard Price steps forward from the throng, his blond hair matted to his head. “And Caroline’s son was murdered by these monstrosities, or have you forgotten!”

  There are some shouts of assent at Richard’s speech. Then Vasily steps forward to join Mirowski in the clearing.

  “We had nothing to do with the murder of her son,” he calls out above the rain. “Silver Lake isn’t interested in the ancient war between our races. What’s done is done. It’s in the past. If either of our races hopes to thrive, we need to make peace, stop hunting each other. It’s time for the killing to end.”

  I look around me, stunned by the amount of blood I see, soaked into people’s shirts, matted in wolves coats, dark swirls mixing in the growing rain puddles.

  Witches lie injured in the dirt, hands pressing down on bite wounds. Werewolves, some still in wolf form, others changing back to human, limping toward the safety of their pack members, flesh laid open and bleeding, scorch marks down their backs.

  “A truce?” Richard asks mockingly. “You expect us to trust you not to slaughter us in our sleep? I’ve seen too much to put my faith in the blood stained hands of werewolves. I won’t be deceived by false promises of peace. When you come for us, we’ll be ready!”

  He stalks off to the left, followed by a third of the coven, all grumbling in agreement. The rest of the group stands around, fidgeting nervously, waiting for Mirowski to speak again.

  “Those of you ready to put an end to this bloodshed, stay and help me! We have injured that need to be treated. Ours and theirs.”

  A middle aged man in bent wire frame glasses steps forward. “I can help. I’m gifted in healing. Where should I start?”

  Then another person takes a hesitant step into the clearing, a young woman with long blonde hair and a torn shirt. “I’ll help too.”

  One by one, witches come forward, out of the crowd, offering their assistance. Mirowski begins directing them to the injured all around us.

  “Emerson.”

  I turn to the voice and my mouth drops to the ground.

  “Sebastian!?”

  I don’t know if I’m more shocked by the fact that he’s here in the middle of a supernatural war, or because he’s standing in the middle of the forest, completely nude.

  “What are you...” Then I notice the cuts and bruises covering his chest and torso. “You’re a werewolf?”

  No way, it can’t be...

  “Olivia needs your help,” he breaks in, avoiding my question. “She’s hurt. Hurry.” He grabs my hand and drags me out into the thick trees.

  Lying at the base of a colossal boulder is a still, naked form with bright copper hair.

  “Olivia!” I cry out, horrified.

  Josh is standing over her, a look of pure hatred on his face as he stares at me, accusation in his black eyes.

  I don’t have time for him. I run over to Olivia and quickly turn her over so I can see where the damage is.

  She’s covered in scratches, but nothing is bleeding too severely. Then I inspect her head, gingerly feeling along her scalp. My fingers find a massive welt on the back of her skull.

  I freeze, my heart going a mile a minute. It’s like Sarah all over again. The panic and helplessness from that night crashes over me, stealing my breath.

  Closing my eyes, I force air into my lungs. Calm down, I tell myself. Caiden healed Sarah; you can heal Olivia too.

  “Em!” Sebastian shouts my name. “Can you help her or not?”

  Opening my eyes, I force the panic back. “She’s out cold,” I say without looking at him. “Let me see what I can do.”

  Fingers shaking, I close my eyes again and calm my pounding heart. I don’t even know what’s wrong with her, but it must be bad if she isn’t waking up.

  Trying not to think about how far out of my depth I am, I focus my energy and send it into her skull, probing to see how serious the damage is.

  There, on the back part of her brain, a vessel is nicked, blood pooling in her skull. Panic flares, lancing through my concentration. I don’t know how to fix this! The pool is growing, blood still flowing from the laceration.

  Okay, okay, I need to seal the blood vessel. Forcing the panic back, I concentrate on the small wound, knitting the tissue back together, sealing the opening. With that finished, I focus on the blood
that’s already seeped out. What am I supposed to do with it? Put it back in her veins? Drain it?

  I don’t know much about medicine, but I know that fluid on the brain isn’t a good thing. I direct all my attention to this small puddle, willing the vessels and arteries to reabsorb the fluid. I have no idea if this is going to work, but I try it anyway.

  Slowly, increment by increment, the puddle shrinks. I don’t know if her body is absorbing it, or if I’m somehow causing it to just disappear, but after an eternity, the blood is gone. I search through the rest of her head, checking to see if there are any other injuries I may have overlooked. Not finding any, I slowly disengage myself from her.

  Back in my own mind, I slump forward in exhaustion. Sebastian catches me up in his strong arms, the heat radiating from his body soothing on my chilled skin.

  Olivia starts to stir, and I burst into tears. I almost lost her. I can’t believe it. I pray that my inept fumbling around in her brain doesn’t lead to any permanent damage. The fact that she’s starting to wake up is a good sign though, and tears stream down my cheeks in relief.

  “Em, I gotcha. You’re okay.” Sebastian levers me up so I’m leaning against him, my cheek resting against the expanse of bare skin on his chest. I try to push myself away, uncomfortable being this close to him, especially in his current state of dress, or undress, as the case may be. But he just wraps one big arm around me, holding me in place.

  “Shh, it’s alright, Em.” He leans down, burying his face in my hair, laying kisses on the top of my head. “God, I’m sorry. I’m so sorry for everything. I had no idea...”

  “I’m not interrupting anything, am I?” A sardonic voice sounds from above. I struggle again to free myself from Sebastian’s hold, and this time he lets me.

  Grayson stands above us, arrogant smirk in place, his short, dark hair matted to his forehead with dried blood.

  “Actually, you were,” Sebastian grounds out.

  Gray’s smirk grows wider. “Too bad. I’ve come to steal Em.”

  Sebastian’s muscles tense, a growl vibrating through his chest.

  Gray ignores him, fixing his gaze on me instead. “Seeing as how I was almost gutted for you, the least you could do is heal my skull. We wouldn’t want to mar my good looks with a hideous scar, now would we?”

  I smile reluctantly, wipe my cheeks, and accept Gray’s hand up. Sebastian continues growling at Gray, but I have no energy for the drama right now. I look back at Olivia, double checking that she really is alright, before following Gray back to the clearing.

  He takes a seat on the stone platform I was bound to not a half hour before. Standing in front of him while he sits on the low platform, his eyes are level with mine as they roam over my face, taking in my red eyes and blotchy cheeks.

  “How you holding up?”

  I think this over for half a second. “My mother’s murderer just escaped, almost half the coven has vowed revenge on the wolf pack that just saved my life, oh, and my best friend almost died and I didn’t know if I would be able to save her or not. And to top it off, both her, Josh, and my ex-boyfriend are werewolves and have hidden it from me for I don’t know how long.” I expel a huge gust of air. “I’m doing just peachy...”

  He keeps watching me intently, his concerned expression making me uncomfortable.

  “Did you want to get healed or what?” I ask to distract him.

  “It probably already healed on its own, but you're welcome to check.” He smirks, breaking the tension.

  “That gash went halfway across your head. People don’t heal that fast,” I scoff, avoiding his gaze as he continues to watch me. I place my hands on either side of his face, gathering my energy.

  “No, but werewolves do.”

  Ignoring his comment, I close my eyes and let my energy seep into him. He sucks in a breath at the unfamiliar sensation of me entering his consciousness, feeling my body settle within him. I can feel the pounding of his heart, the heat unfurling in the pit of his stomach.

  Trying to block this out, I search for the gaping wound on his scalp. To my surprise, it’s already begun knitting itself back together. The cut looks hours old rather than minutes. I heal it the rest of the way and then search for any other injuries.

  I find a few bruised ribs and a sore shoulder, all easily fixed. With nothing left to heal, I disengage and find myself staring into a pair of heated silver eyes.

  I drop my hands from his face and step back quickly, stumbling over my own feet. His hands grab onto my waist to steady me.

  “You okay?” His voice rumbles, gruffer than usual.

  “Yeah, fine,” I mumble. “I, uh, I’d better go find Caiden.”

  “Wait,” he stops me. “You still shouldn’t wander off anywhere by yourself.”

  My mouth opens in disbelief. “Caroline’s gone. She took off.”

  “Yeah, but for how long? She could come back.”

  My heart picks up, a savageness I barely recognize rising up in my chest. “I hope she does,” I growl, murder in my eyes.

  “You’ll get your chance, I’m sure. But for now, there’s still that prick from your coven who took off in a rage.” He rolls his eyes, like Richard’s threats were nothing more than a temper tantrum. “But more importantly,” he continues seriously. “Your coven may have stopped fighting us this night, but they haven’t agreed to a truce yet, and neither has your golden boy’s pack.”

  “You mean Seb? He isn’t part of your pack?” This is so strange to say out loud. Sebastian, a werewolf? I still can’t believe it.

  Gray chuckles. “God, no. He’s from the local pack. The only reason we’re allowed in their territory at all is because my father is working out an arrangement with their alpha.”

  “Their alpha? Wait, do you mean James? Is that what you were doing at his house–” I cut myself off, realizing too late that I just admitted to spying on him.

  “Ha,” he laughs. “I thought that was you hiding in the woods. The wind was blowing the wrong way for me to catch your scent, but I thought I heard you out there.”

  My face heats up and I change the subject. “Is your father Vasily?”

  “No,” he chuckles again. “Vasily is my father’s second in command.”

  I shake my head wearily. “Werewolf politics are a little too much for me to grasp right now.”

  “Well, remind me to explain it to you later. For now, just don’t go anywhere alone and don’t trust anybody. Except me, of course.” He winks.

  Shaking my head again, I hurry away. Off to the right a bunch of witches I’ve never seen before are huddled together, healing some injured werewolves. They must belong to Madelyn’s coven. I see her and Vasily nearby, dispersing jackets and sweatpants to the werewolves, whose clothes apparently don’t survive the transformation from human to wolf.

  I notice that none of the werewolves are being healed by my coven. I start over toward a couple of bleeding pack members to help, but freeze when I spot Caiden kneeling over someone, a small crowd surrounding him.

  Arianna and Ethan are standing behind Caiden, Ethan’s arm wrapped tight around Ari’s shoulders. My stomach clenches as I make my way towards them. When I get closer, I notice the tears streaming down Arianna’s pale cheeks, the raw grief etched onto Ethan’s face.

  “What’s going on?” I ask Arianna, trying to peer over shoulders to see what Caiden is doing.

  Arianna lets out a sob and buries her face in Ethan’s shoulder.

  “It’s Lydia,” Ethan answers, leveling a cold stare at me.

  “What about her? Is she okay?” My stomach lurches sickeningly.

  “We don’t know yet.” He turns away to watch Caiden again.

  Oh, God. I shoulder my way into the crowd, stopping cold when I catch sight of Lydia. Her normally blonde hair is streaked red with blood. Her shirt is shredded, deep claw marks slicing through her chest and abdomen, blood pooling in the dirt around her.

  Her head is cradled in Caiden’s lap as he bends over her l
imp figure, his face lined with strain as he desperately tries to heal her broken body.

  Everyone looks on with bated breath, praying that Caiden will be able to bring her back. A few older witches join hands, quietly chanting a healing spell of their own.

  Oh, God. Please let her be okay. Caiden will bring her back, just like he brought back Sarah. I stare at Lydia’s still chest, willing it to move. Sweat drips down Caiden’s face, deep creases appearing around his eyes and forehead.

  After an eternity, Mirowski steps forward, placing one large hand on Caiden’s shoulder. Caiden trembles at the touch, slowly raising his grief stricken eyes to Mirowski’s.

  “She’s gone, Caiden. Let her go.”

  Caiden bends over Lydia’s lifeless body, a harsh sob breaking from his chest.

  No. Lydia can’t be dead.

  Grief claws up my throat as I stare at her ravaged body, at the lacerations covering her chest and stomach. Lying in the dirt next to her is a blood stained dagger from the ritual. She must have fought one of the werewolves. It’s the only explanation for the deep slashes all over her.

  How can this have happened? We came here to negotiate a truce. How could Lydia have been killed?

  Ethan and Arianna help Caiden stand up. The rest of the coven slowly breaks away, crying softly, leaving Ethan, Arianna, and Caiden alone.

  I approach Caiden in a daze, unable to believe that Lydia is really gone, but Ethan’s murderous glares stops me in my tracks.

  “This is your fault,” he spits out between clenched teeth. “Lydia died because of you.”

  “Ethan–” Caiden starts.

  “It’s true!” He bursts out. “I told her this would happen! The pack came here because of her!” He flings his arm out, pointing at me, his face red and mottled. “She insisted that they weren’t here to hurt anyone. Well, look what happened! Those animals killed my cousin!”

  Tears slip down my cheeks, his words hitting me like sledgehammers.

  “Ethan, that’s enough!” Caiden shouts. “If you’re going to blame her, then blame me too. I’m just as guilty as she is!”

  Ethan curls his lip at me in disgust. “We all know she forced you into this Caiden. She’s pretty good at manipulating guys into doing what she wants,” he throws out before storming away, Arianna tucked close under his arm.