Emerald Fire (A Blushing Death Novel Book 6)

by Suzanne M. Sabol

  Bursting from the grass, we approached a copse of trees at the edge of the woods. A man knelt on the ground with a woman lying in his arms. He cradled her there against his chest as he shushed her, petting her sweat-drenched hair from her face.

  “Stop fighting it, Connie, there’s nothing you can do,” the man said.

  The woman moaned, panting and sweating in his arms. Patches of fur broke from her skin in angry, irritated splotches.

  Dean transformed back to human between one stride and the next, standing with his back straight, his posture proud and emanating his authority even while naked under the full moon. He didn’t even look winded.

  Most werewolves would have passed out from the energy it took to shift from human to wolf and back again, let alone several times in a single night. Being more powerful than any werewolf I’d ever seen was part of what made Dean Gaoh, but more importantly, he could draw energy from the Pack and use their magic to gain strength when he needed it. His power and presence scared the shit out of any new Were he met, so I knew he was the real deal.

  Dean knelt down beside them and I transformed back to human too. Connie had pulled herself into a tight fetal ball, breathing heavily with her eyes squeezed shut.

  “Connie?” Dean said. His voice was sure and stern as he tried to get her to focus on him. She wasn’t answering. “Connie, what have you done?”

  “She’s pregnant, Gaoh,” the man said.

  “Mike,” sorrow make that one word heavy from Dean’s lips. “She can’t fight the moon.

  “We didn’t know until last week. This is her fourth month, the doctor said.” Mike sounded so lost, so small.

  I reached out and grabbed Connie’s hand. The touch of her skin in mine was clammy and her fingers weak in my grasp.

  My breath caught in my throat and Connie’s eyes bolted wide open. I could feel her wolf beneath her skin like a slow, simmering pressure. The wolf wanted out, to run under the full moon, to be with her Pack. Skimming my fingers up and down Connie’s arm, I soothed the wolf inside her. She growled inside my head at first, fighting for dominance, but my wolf was stronger, she as Alpha. The Eithina in me pushed back, forcing the wolf inside Connie into submission and to quiet.

  Connie’s breathing evened out and the fur already exposed through her skin, receded back into her body. It wasn’t going to be enough. Dean was right, Connie couldn’t fight the moon or the wolf that wanted out.

  “Shh,” I soothed.

  Connie’s heart raced, thundering in her chest until I could hear it beating in time with mine. The air was thick with the scent of her fear and adrenaline. Connie had a panicked, desperate gleam in her eyes and I knew she didn’t want to lose the baby. No matter what it cost her.

  “Shhh,” I whispered again and I could almost see her lovely snow-white wolf lying down on its belly in my mind. It waited, biding its time, ready to hunt, ready for Connie to give in.

  “Help me, please,” she begged, panting. “I can’t lose another one.” Connie glanced up at me, pleading with her dark, sad eyes.

  “The shift is too hard. You’re lucky you made it this long,” Dean whispered, and I could hear the regret in his voice as he stroked Connie’s arm.

  “We’d been careful,” Mike tried to explain. “I don’t know how this happened. I promised her she wouldn’t have to lose another one.” Tears filled his eyes as he watched his mate fight a primal magic that none of them could defeat. She glared up at me, her strength waning as her breathing slowed.

  “Help me, Eithina. Please.”

  I couldn’t help her. There were just certain things that were true; the sun was hot, water was wet, and werewolves couldn’t carry to term. I squeezed her hand and focused on that snow-white wolf. Sitting so primly like a sphinx with her head up and ears alert ready to pounce. The wolf stared at me with understanding that was almost human.

  “Come, run with me for a while,” I said, but I felt the command in my words. Power rippled up my arm as her wolf leapt to meet me. Connie’s wolf consumed me in a wave of primal rage that slammed into my body and disoriented me, rushing my transformation into wolf.

  “DAHLIA!” Dean shouted.

  He didn’t have to shout, I was right next to him.

  “Connie! What have you done?” he said, still shouting.

  I let her wolf settle inside of me, alongside my own. She was anxious to be out with the rest, needing to run and hunt. She didn’t want to miss her chance.

  “I don’t know,” Connie whimpered, shying away from Dean.

  Leaning over, I licked him on the cheek, trying to make him smile. I wasn’t sure what he was so mad about but I was okay, Connie seemed okay, and I was back in control.

  “Her fur is snow white. She has Connie’s coloring,” Mike said from behind his mate. “I thought her fur was gold.” He sounded confused and when I turned back to Dean, the light from his eyes shone with anger.

  “It is,” Dean growled, snatching my muzzle and turning my head back up to meet his gaze.

  I shook my head free of his grip and then snapped at his hand. He didn’t need to manhandle me, damn it.

  Connie’s color was coming back, her wolf was happy and ready to run even if it was inside me. My Eithina circled Connie’s wolf, protecting her as if Connie’s wolf was her own cub.

  “Dahlia, Baby?” Dean whispered.

  I’d never really seen him nervous before and it was kinda cute. I stretched, jutting my nose up and licking his cheek again. I turned and took off running. I knew Dean would follow me and Connie’s wolf was tired of waiting.

  Chapter 18

  He knew they wouldn’t be enough but he didn’t have time to gather more for the sacrifice. Any more than two was too difficult to manage anyway and four would be almost impossible. But he needed more. The Blushing Death was more powerful and more cunning than he’d imagined or estimated.

  “I won’t let you down, Konyam. You’ll be proud of me again. I promise you that,” he said to himself, striding to where his sacrifices for the night were tied to the tree. Two humans were drugged and incoherent at his feet. He’d planned the dosage for two women but when the pair of men had approached him, offering themselves up for a night of debauchery, Logan couldn’t resist. The drugs were not as effective in their larger frames so they were still awake, still aware but unable to do anything about it.

  Reaching down, Logan stroked his hand across the stubble gracing the blond man’s chin. So rough, rugged along the square jaw. “If I didn’t need you for other things, you would have made a very delectable meal this evening.”

  The man’s eyes turned up to Logan with a wistful, lost expression. Opening his mouth as if to say something, the man licked his chapped lips. “What’s happening?” he muttered.

  “Ah, I can see the drugs are wearing off,” Logan cooed. “It’s always more fun when you’re aware of what’s happening.”

  “Jeremy?” he murmured, slowly turning his head from one side to the other. When his gaze landed on the other man beside him, tears welled in his eyes. “Pleassssse, don’t hurt him.” The man’s blubbering plea turned Logan’s stomach. So weak. So fragile.

  Turning up his nose in disgust, Logan spun back to the salt circle waiting for blood to close it. “Don’t worry, precious, it won’t be long now.”

  Logan stepped inside the salt circle and knelt down to the two women, unconscious at his feet. He snatched both by the hair and jerked. When they didn’t wake, he struck each across the face to rouse them. One woke up screaming, filling the night with her shrill cries. Logan knew she had to be first. Drawing his knife with his free hand, he sliced it across her throat. Her screams bubbled and turned to gasps as she gurgled around the flow of blood down the front of her body. The other woman’s eyes were wide as blood seeped from the open wound and onto her. Only when the
warmth of the other woman’s life coated her arm, did she scream. Logan repeated the action, opening her throat too. Magic built and prickled as her life drained out slowly onto the grass.

  Her final heartbeat thumped in her chest and power raced into Logan, lighting his insides on fire as the power of animation burned through him. The circle lit up in a sheen of shimmering magic the color of green fire as magic coated the salt crystals and fused it to his control. The power of two deaths made him feel as if he could tear apart at the seams. “So much power,” he ground out from between clenched teeth.

  Before the pain became too much for him to bear, he shoved the magic down into the ground. It reached out, searching for bodies to grab and own. One after another awakened to his call until he lost count. The magic drained from him in a rush of power and it wasn’t going to be enough. He needed more. The last of the sacrificial magic drained from Logan and he forced his own power in to follow it. One more. Just one more.

  Collapsing to his knees with the burning sensation of magic leaving his body, Logan called his creations to him. “Come . . . Rise . . . and greet . . . your master,” he managed to rasp before the power was solidified in them and he collapsed to his knees from exhaustion.

  Hands stretched up through hard earth, turning over large chunks of grass and dirt. The man tied to the tree next to his lover, scrambled to get away, leaving his beloved Jeremy behind. The other man’s eyes fluttered open just in time to see Logan’s creations lumbering toward them.

  “Eat and be flesh.” Logan dropped down on all fours, more weak than he had intended, having used much of his own magic to raise this many dead. He tilted his head up, watching the zombies tearing into their meal. The two men’s muffled screams died quickly with so many dead to feed.

  Logan’s limbs were weak and his fangs throbbed with the need for blood. If he didn’t get up and take control of his children, they would turn on him. Glancing down at the two dead women, the scent of iron made his mouth water. It was still warm, even if their hearts had stopped.

  Desperate times called for desperate measures.

  Lowering his head to the pool of blood on the grass, he sucked up a mouthful and swallowed. It would be enough for now. It would have to be enough.

  Logan got to his feet and stumbled. He just had to get them in the truck and get back. He could feed from the man he’d left behind, chained in the bedroom for them to snack on. He could feed once he had his creations back to safety.

  Throwing his shoulders back, Logan called to his dead. “Follow me to fulfill your obligation.” Logan turned and stumbled to the truck.

  It wouldn’t be long now and Konyam would welcome him back, onto the board and into his bed. The Blushing Death would be Logan’s greatest achievement. Especially when he raised her from her grave as his own creation after killing her. A gift to Konyam.

  Chapter 19

  “I hate chitchatting,” I growled underneath my breath. I was uncomfortable in my evening gown and four inch stiletto heels. The room was too hot, there were too many people in a cramped space, and everyone wanted to talk to me. I can’t even say why. It was like I had a sign on my forehead, Please come talk to me. I like it.

  “So do I but we can’t hide in the corner forever,” Kurt said with a placating smile as he wrestled the empty champagne flute from my death grip. He hated these social functions just as much as I did.

  “Says who?” I protested, keeping my gaze on what mattered to me most, the two men in the corner.

  Patrick and Dean were cloistered together across the expanse of people, talking feverishly. I could almost make out every third word over the clinking of glasses and the low rumble of conversation in the atrium of the Columbus Metropolitan Museum of Art. I didn’t have to hear their conversation to know the panicked expression on Dean’s face and the dark, dismissive light glinting in Patrick’s eyes.

  “I can’t tell Patrick’s mood,” Kurt whispered beside me.

  I guess he was as worried about their conversation as I was, proving that men could be just as nosy as women. I didn’t want a fist-fight in public. I wasn’t sure we could hide that if blood was shed.

  Patrick glanced my way and met my gaze. A sense of delight washed over me that wasn’t mine. Smiling back at him, I relished how easy the understanding between us had become. This new connection between us was incredible. There was no shield to keep up. He was a part of me and I a part of him. I didn’t feel the sense of intrusion that had once twisted my stomach into knots of having him in my head. He fit as if he belonged there.

  “Patrick’s pleased but concerned,” I confirmed for Kurt. “There’s only one of me.”

  “And so many who would want the gift you gave Connie and Mike the other night.” Kurt’s expression grew perplexed, his brow furrowed, and his lips turned into a firm line of tension to match his boxy shoulders.

  “What I’ll have to do for Connie next month and the month after that,” I said, tipping the glass of champagne Kurt had placed up to my mouth.

  “You scared the shit out of Dean. You know that, right?” Kurt mumbled. He was the only wolf I ever allowed to talk to me without restraint. He was my friend and had been, long before I was Eithina.

  “It’s not like I knew it was going to happen,” I snapped, suddenly defensive. “I didn’t even know whatever I did was possible,” I said almost to myself.

  “Neither did he.”

  “Then what’s he so upset about?”

  “You took on her wolf, Dahlia. You smelled like her. He was worried you wouldn’t come back.”

  “But I did. I had control the whole time, I promise. Besides, I always come back,” I said with a reassuring smile and a wink, taking his arm in mine.

  “That you do.”

  Milagra and Konstantin waltzed in front of us. In a deep red silk dress that hugged her soft, round curves, she was glued to the vampire. He smiled down at her, the scar across his cheek barely noticeable as his expression lightened his eyes. Milagra’s lips quirked up as if she wanted desperately to laugh but couldn’t. Her gaze darted around the room, evaluating, assessing. Even in Konstantin’s arms, she never really relaxed.

  “I worry about her,” Kurt mumbled, keeping his voice low so that only I would hear.

  “She’s been through a lot,” I said, watching the couple move across the floor. “I don’t know what Likho did to her, but I’m pretty sure it was bad. She doesn’t value herself. Only Konstantin matters.”

  “A martyr, like someone else I know.” The corners of Kurt’s thin lips quirked up in a teasing grin as his shoulders shook with restrained laughter.

  “Enough,” I chastised.

  “Yes, Eithina,” he said, but I could still see the smile sparkling in his gaze. “We need to draw her out. Even at the manit, she was set apart. Hunting alone. Not engaging with the rest of the pack. How do we make her one of us?”

  “Time. Trust. She fended for herself for a very long time from what I gather. Saeran said he searched for more than a century with no trace of her. That’s a long time to have your beliefs, fears, and insecurities solidified. All I know is, we can’t leave her to languish in her self-constructed solitude,” I said, watching her clutch Konstantin’s hand with white-knuckle desperation.

  “Like we let you?” His voice was soft, almost a whisper.

  Once upon a time, after more emotional trauma than I could deal with, I’d been despondent to the point of catatonic and I disappeared from the world for months. I’d left them all behind, left them vulnerable without realizing it. Kurt was right, of course. Much like Milagra, I hadn’t let anyone in. I didn’t believe at the time that they could help me cope with Danny’s murder at the hands of a vengeful vampire ninja, with my best friend’s murder, and with the destruction of my life as I lost my job and my house. I hadn’t given them the chance and I’d hurt
so many people in the process. I wouldn’t let Milagra fall down that same rabbit hole of loneliness and despair.

  “Yes, but I found my way out,” I said.

  “I, for one, am thankful you did.” Kurt clutched my hand and squeezed with a contented glint in his eyes. His nostrils flared and I knew in the predatory, possessive expression that crossed his features, I’d lost his attention.

  Jade stepped to the top of the stairs in a strapless, green silk gown that hugged her curves all the way down to the floor. Her tanned skin and bright emerald eyes shimmered against the deep hunter green fabric. Her hair hung loose and free about her shoulders and down her back. The woman was gorgeous and I’d lost Kurt’s attention the instant she came into view. I and the entire world was forgotten with just a glimpse of her. I patted his forearm and walked away. I wasn’t even sure he would notice.

  I weaved in and out of clusters of people, trying to avoid actual contact or conversation. Patrick did what he did best, charmed the humans. Dean stood uncomfortable at his side with an annoyed glare furrowing his brow. He was basically waiting for the entire night to be over but couldn’t leave, being one of the two reasons we were all here to begin with. He was kind of stuck. The thought of him uncomfortable and baring it with a forced smile the way I was made me happy. Petty maybe, but there it was. His discomfort also made me want to tease and goad him. I couldn’t help myself.

  Scanning the room, I noticed that not a single man in the entire museum looked as good as Patrick and Dean in their tuxedos. The tailor had had a hell of a time altering Dean’s to fit his muscular build but he’d done a wonderful job, sculpting the jacket to his large biceps and well-defined pectoral muscles. The bow tie sat at his neck like a present to be unwrapped and my mouth watered.