by D. Fischer
“A hoard of vampires,” he starts, before backing up to exit through the broken sliding door. He points a clawed finger at her. “Stay here, Kenna. Brenna, don’t let her leave.” He turns and heads back outside.
All is silent inside the house, the only noise is our heavy breathing and sounds of the battle ensuing outside.
Something slams into the siding of the house, breaking me from my trance, my mind coming to a quick conclusion. I make my way through the broken glass, the shards crunching under my shoes. Kat follows directly behind me.
“What are you doing?” Brenna hisses.
I momentarily stop in my tracks, my voice final. “I’m not staying in here. Not when I can contribute.”
A howl sounds through the night and I make my way a little faster, taking extra care not to slip.
“Fuck this shit,” Kenna growls. She and Bre follow us out. I’m sure they are just as worried about their mates as I am about mine.
I step onto the deck, the noise much louder out here. I breathe, everything, even sounds, occur in slow motion. My breathing clouds my hearing, my inhales and exhales sounding as though they’re happening underwater.
“Holy shit,” Kat and Kenna say together, snapping me from my shock.
A few Cloven Pack members have shifted to protect their territory. Others remain partially shifted. In the blur of speed and the dark night, it’s difficult to tell who is who. The fire still crackles from within its pit, its blaze roaring to life as vampire limbs are tossed into it. The blankets and chairs are still in the same position they were minutes ago when they were occupied.
Two wolves attack a vampire, ripping him to pieces. A wolf pauses to howl, victory in his kill. Evo holds another in a choke-hold while Ben buries his hand into his chest. My eyes move, scanning the wolves, looking for Flint, desperately flitting from wolf to wolf, person to person.
I find him and zero in. He remains in his human form—a bold move or one out of fear—as a hoard of vampires zone in on his unprotected status. Why isn’t he shifting? I grip the rail and make my way down the stairs with hurried steps.
Kat follows, chanting words behind me. The ground rumbles and rolls in waves as it skirts around me, sending the vampires attempting to corner my mate to the ground. Three wolves pounce at the chance, burying their muzzles into the vampires’ ribcage. The sounds of their dead bones breaking reach my ears. It makes my hair stand on end and goosebumps rise on my skin. Now close to the mass, by smell, I identify the wolves as Victoria, Romaine, and Darla.
I snarl and partially shift as a few make it to their feet before Victoria, Romaine, or Darla can get to them. Without adjusting their rumpled clothes, their muscles tense, ready to spring at my unprotected mate.
In my peripheral vision, I see something glow. My eyes shift toward it, distracted by its light. A ball of flame rests on Kat’s hand. It licks her skin, twirls and swirls inside her palm. She stares in amazement as the flames stroke her, leaving her with no burns. Kat glances up at me, the neon orange rims back to surrounding her irises while shock is evident on her distorted features. I double blink, making sure I’m seeing what I’m actually seeing. Witches shouldn’t be able to conjure nature—they can only use what’s already there.
Before I can comment, the remaining vampires charge, their bodies a blur of speed. Flint steps forward, partially shifting on the spot and shoves me behind him. His muscles flex in his back as he roars at the fanged creatures.
Kat, snapping out of her shock, throws her flaming ball. It hits the first vampire and engulfs him in an unnatural flame. The vampire screams as he burns in slow agony, the flames taking their time with its victim.
Flint Rockland
My eyes zoom in on the risen vampires stalking in our direction. My wolf pounds against his cage, demanding to free to protect his salvation—his mate.
Desperately trying not to heed to his demands in fear I’ll never be allowed back to the forefront, I step forward and push Irene back. I allow a partial shift, compromising with my wolf. I know I can’t do this with my own two hands.
If only she stayed inside, her presence wouldn’t be a distraction.
I pay no mind to one of the vampires engulfed in flames. My focus is only on what’s in front of me.
Two charge me. Ben, now in wolf form—a blur of black fur—tackles one of them to the ground. The other rushes me. I bend and lean my weight into it. His torso hits my side and he tumbles over my back. The force of the vampire’s impact drops him to the ground. A roar rips from my throat, my sanity slipping. He jumps up, ready for another round.
The vampire lashes out with his pointed black nails. I lean backward, narrowly missing it. He swings again with his other hand.
I block the swing with an open fist, burying my claws deep inside his chest. His insides are like ribbons of ice, his cold heart thick as the head of a rubber mallet in my hand.
The vampire stills as I keep him suspended between his present, undead state and his final death. His eyes widen, realizing his presence on this world has come to an end.
My lips slightly curve around my sharp canines and I yank the organ from his chest. It comes out with a sound like the ripping of newspaper.
His mouth opens and closes as he clutches at the empty hole, staring at the heart I now hold in my hands. His face cracks in fright. I glance down at the heart, examining it, my smirk turning into a grin, shifting it this way and that. Goo drips from the black heart and my fingertips as I take in all the curves and veins.
Victory courses through my body, vibrating my bones and sending a rush of adrenaline through my veins. I gradually squeeze the dead organ. The unnecessary breath seizes in the vampire and his deep, red eyes go wild and helpless, almost . . . pleading.
Roaring, like a lion victorious over his prey, I crush the heart in my hand. It instantly turns to dust and I watch, as if in slow motion, as he flakes away. Almost as if he never existed, the wind takes his pieces and they sprinkle away with the breeze, disappearing from my sight.
The world around me is quiet . . . too quiet. I breathe in short, shallow gasps. My chest expands to its limit, the air rushing from both my mouth and nostrils. My arms quiver as I try to control my wolf. He howls and snarls as he bangs against his cage. I squeeze my eyes shut, giving my head a little shake. The mental effort to keep him contained is proving difficult.
Irene comes into my vision, wide eyes searching my own. She takes a careful step closer and reaches a hand to touch my face. I lean away from her fingers.
“Don’t,” I grumble around my wolf’s teeth.
She stops her advance, her hand suspended in mid-air before she drops it. Her eyes plead with mine. “Flint . . . ” she begins, her voice soft and wary.
I groan as my wolf persists, my clawed fingers balling into fists.
“Should Irene be near him when he’s like that?” Kat asks. Someone mumbles an incoherent reply.
Irene’s eyes wander over my shaking frame, her hands searching the air for a way to ease me. “Just breathe,” she whispers. “Deep breaths.” She places her fumbling hands over her heart, taking a deep breath and releasing it. Her shoulders rise and fall, mimicking the actions she wants me to make. “Come on, Flint. Try.”
I suck in a deep, shaky breath, keeping my eyes on her, and release it just the same.
Breathe, I chant to myself.
My heart rate slows as I continue to watch her shoulders rise and fall. My chest mimics her rhythm, soothing my wolf.
Irene takes a tentative step closer to me. When I don’t stop her advance, she places her hand over my thudding heart, her fingers caressing the surface. Her scent swirls around my head, reaching my wolf inside and reminding me of who I am. His growling and snarling quiets as he takes notice of his mate, unharmed and alert. In his pause, I shift fully back to my human form.
My lungs beg for more oxygen but I continue with Irene’s instructions. Slowly, my breaths return to normal and my wolf retreats deep within me.
As so
on as my eyes stop glowing, she breathes a relieved sigh and wraps her arms around my waist. Her head replaces her hand over my heart and she listens to the beats there. Taking the moment, I place my nose in her hair and drink her in. Her scent tickles my tongue, my heart beating only for her.
You never know how deep love runs until someone yanks you from your darkest hour. To take your hand from inside the grave you’ve dug and bring you to the surface to breathe that fresh air once more. To save you from yourself. To not run for the hills but save a soul instead. It’s a debt you can never repay. It’s the ultimate, selfless sacrifice. She’s my only salvation.
It’s at this moment that I know I’ll never be able to repay her. That she doesn’t deserve me. But I’ll selfishly never let her go. I’ll spend the rest of my life loving this woman and hope that that’s enough. It’s all I’ve got to give—my unwavering metaphorical heart.
I love her.
With Irene in my arms, I turn and face my Pack. Evo and Ben nod at me, their eyebrows relaxing. My eyes flick to a vampire held between the two of their grasps.
Romaine catches me eyeing the vampire and comments, “Hostage,” while tilting his head in that direction.
“How did this happen?” I ask no one in particular.
Bre and Kenna reach the Pack, Kenna huffing as she waddles. Beads of sweat sprinkle her forehead. “I’d like to know the same damn thing,” she growls.
Irene flinches in my arms. I glance down at her, her hands sticking to my sweaty shirt as she nuzzles in deeper.
“Calm down,” Evo mumbles. “It’s not good for the baby.” He passes the vampire’s arm off to Romaine, and he and Ben take the hostage toward the garage.
“I’ll calm down as soon as someone tells me what a bunch of walking, blood-sucking, dead guys are doing on our lawn.” Her gaze switches to Irene. “And what’s your deal?” she asks her.
I frown and look down at my mate again. She doesn’t say a word.
“Come on,” Evo begins, taking Kenna’s elbow from Bre and lifting her into his arms. “We’ll discuss it inside.” Evo begins walking before he halts and turns back to us. “Victoria, Jessup, Evalyn, I want you three to patrol. Any sound, anything suspicious and you sound the alarm. Got it?” The three of them, already naked, begin to shift back to their wolves.
The rest of the Pack follows Evo to the house through the vampire-dust-covered grass. For the first time, I realize how lucky the Pack is to suffer no causalities and that no one was seriously injured.
Darla seems to have gotten the full brunt of the injuries. She’s still fully naked and trying to cover her breasts with one hand and her nether regions with the other. She has a large bruise on her right shoulder, as well as several minor lacerations.
I step through the broken door, Irene behind me as I pull her along by her hand, unwilling to let her go. Around the side of the kitchen, leafy vines lay on the floor in a haphazard heap. The wood flooring is fractured from where the vines seem to have come from.
My heart seizes in my chest. My mate was in here when this happened. I ignore the urge to protect my unharmed and safe mate and watch as Darla closes the fridge door before she scurries off.
“They were young, Evo,” I comment as soon as we are in the living room. I take Irene to the couch and hold her hand until she sits on the cushion. She’s in such a daze. Kat sits next to her, placing an arm around her shoulder.
The front door is left wide open. I frown and approach it. Grasping the handle, I begin to swing it shut before I halt the movement. Something catches my eye, dim but sparkling in the moon light. My eyebrows dip lower as I squint, curiosity taking over. I step out onto the porch, the wooden boards creaking under my weight.
Evo stops whatever he’s saying and calls my name. “Everything okay?” he asks, but his words sound like they’re coming from the end of a deep tunnel.
I take another step, the heap on the ground becoming more visible. My eyes pick out a shape attached to the large mass in the grass—a shoe. The design on the side one I used to tease my best friend about. My eyes travel farther each step I take, to the jeans and shirt I recognize. And last, my eyes land on the glint caused by the moon . . .
Dead, unseeing eyes stare at the sky.
Thudding noses roar in my ear before I realize it’s my heart beat. I gulp, even though my mouth is bone dry. My tongue sticks to the roof of my mouth and I blink several times, frantically trying to get rid of the scene in front of my eyes . . . as if they think it’s not real. But it is. It is real.
Reality hits and I fall to my knees with a thud in the grass next to the dead body.
My world breaks into pieces, my wolf silent with sorrow, not willing to believe his own eyes.
“Dyson,” I whisper, my throat thick.
ChapterEleven
Flint Rockland
I love you, man. Treat your mate right, okay? Don’t waste a moment with her.
Those were Dyson’s last words. The last words I’ll ever hear him speak. His words play on constant repeat, his voice echoing over and over inside my head.
I watch his cold, unseeing eyes. My mind and wolf are in shock, unable to comprehend that our friend no longer exists. All that’s left is a hollow husk—a shell—of a life he once led . . . of the man he once was. He’ll never speak again. I’ll never hear his laugh again.
A memory surfaces. He fiddles with the setting on my computer, fixing what I broke. He turns his head and laughs at something I said. I was trying to reach his nerdy level, only to make a fool of myself. He called me out on it, like he always did, and we laughed it off together.
Evo rushes outside when I don’t answer him, his footsteps thundering with each placement. Darla, Kenna, Bre, Kat, and Irene follow right after him. Their scents swirl and mix with that of the dead body in front of me.
“Oh my God,” Kenna whispers from behind me at the same time Kat says, “Holy shit.”
“No. No. That’s not . . . no,” Bre whispers, tears thick in her voice.
The returning crickets chirp to fill the silence around Evo’s curses. The threat is gone and they feel safe enough to continue their song. If only they knew that on this night, there’s nothing to joyfully sing about.
Evo bends down on the other side of Dyson and runs a hand through his dark hair. Dyson’s body lays at an odd angle, limbs carelessly thrown about and his head twisted toward the dark sky. It’s like he was thrown . . . like he wasn’t a person to whoever put him there.
Grief and sorrow constrict my heart as my eyes flick to the rope marks around Dyson’s neck.
“They tied him up and hung him,” Evo whispers as he picks up one of Dyson’s wrists, examining the bruises.
“Who did this?” Bre asks. She sobs with a slight hiccup.
“The vampires?” Kenna asks, her voice muffled by the hand over her mouth.
Irene bends down next to me and places her hand on my back, her rubbing motion too stiff to be soothing.
Irene Scott
I panic at Bre’s question. My lungs hold my breath hostage on the verge of hyperventilating. I know exactly who did it and why.
You’ll regret this. That’s what Jazz said before I left. I distinctly remember the sneer on her face.
You know, Irene. You’re not the only spy we have. You are disposable, she had said.
The word ‘disposable’ echoes in my head. Dyson . . . Dyson was their—
“You okay?” Kenna asks. I glance up. She’s rubbing her belly, feeling my inner turmoil and directing her question at me with concern.
“It’s just a lot,” I mumble, averting my gaze.
Unfortunately, the only place to look is at Dyson’s body. People look so different when they’re dead. The stress of their life and thoughts are no longer evident on their face. It makes them seem younger and haunting at the same time.
This is my fault. I did this. I didn’t obey and now this Pack is paying the price, one life at a time.
“What kind of grudg
e do the vampires hold against your Pack?” Kat asks.
Evo stands from Dyson’s body and runs a hand down his face. “I don’t know. Ben and Romaine are waiting for me before they start questioning the hostage. I’m sure we’ll find out.”
Kat is silent for a moment before she speaks again. “It’s against the rules, but since I no longer belong to a Coven . . . Rules be damned.”
I frown before my head snaps to her, her words catching me off guard. I didn’t know she was no longer a part of her Coven. I just talked to her yesterday and she never mentioned it.
Taking a step forward toward Dyson’s body, Kat takes a deep breath and closes her eyes. The Pack watches her as she begins mumbling something I don’t understand.
The crickets continue their chirp, the vibrations mingling with the sound of tiny rocks clinking together by the gravel driveway. I glance in the direction and see several pebbles bouncing and hopping in the grass, heading our way. When they reach Dyson, they begin assembling themselves, creating a picture in the grass. The clinking stops when the picture is complete, a face taking shape. I quickly stand, my knees buckling, when I recognize the face.
Zane.
“Who is that?” Kenna asks, craning her neck to see the face better.
“Zane,” Darla growls.
Brenna points. “That’s one of the guys who attacked me in the parking garage last year.”
Evo frowns. “Who’s Zane?”
Darla’s eyes glow, her anger getting the better of her and riling her wolf. “He’d arrive as Jazz’s entourage when they’d visit George. A man of few words, but one I never wanted to mess with.”
Evo stuffs his hands into his pockets, his eyes glowing wolf. Reality seems to set in for him, as it does for me. If I’m not careful, they’ll discover what I am before I have a chance to work out my next plan.
“This is Jazz’s Rogue posse?” he asks.
Darla nods. “She’s got many behind her, fawning over her every step.” She shakes her head. “I don’t understand it myself.”
