Chasing Darkness (Rune Alexander Book 10)

by Laken Cane

  The cup remained cool.

  She whispered steadily, her concentration complete, urging power into the cup’s contents.

  Her words were nonsensical. It wasn’t the words that mattered—only her voice and her thoughts mattered. Her energy.

  Power.

  So much power.

  It sang through her blood and body and brain and made her shiver with delight. It exited, some of it, into the cup, and she was reluctant to let it go. But keeping it would have been selfish and would not have helped the girl.

  So she released the energy, the power, the magic, into the cup.

  And finally, she relaxed, sighed, and turned toward Brooke. “It’s ready.”

  Brooke licked her lips. “I have to drink that?”

  “You do.”

  Brooke took the cup, holding it between both her palms as Abby had done. She shuddered. “I can feel it spreading through my hands.” She looked up at Abby, her eyes dilated, though she wouldn’t have known that. “I drink it?”

  Abby nodded. “Drink,” she urged.

  Brooke continued staring up at her for a moment, dazed. Finally, she looked at the cup as though seeing it for the first time. She hesitated, then put it to her lips and took a tiny sip.

  “Do not drink slowly,” Abby admonished. “Down it goes. Quickly, now.” She didn’t touch the cup while Brooke held it. It belonged to the girl. Touching it after Brooke had would drain it of its power.

  There was no need, anyway. After her first tentative sip, Brooke made an appreciative sound and gulped the contents. She wiped her mouth. “That was delicious. May I have more?”

  Abby laughed and took the cup. She’d purify it before using it again. “Greedy girl. No, you may not. You’ve had more than enough.”

  Brooke got unsteadily to her feet. “Am I okay to drive? I feel…drunk. God, I feel great.”

  “Those effects will wear off before you leave my house.”

  “What will it do for me? How will it protect me from my alpha?”

  Abby held out a hand. “Come. I’ll explain as I walk you to your car.”

  Brooke seemed reluctant to leave, as all the clients were, and Abby couldn’t blame her. The spell room was calming, safe, and stress-relieving. Inside the spell room, people could hide from the world and all its worries.

  They could explore mysteries their days and nights no longer held.

  “The spell is only temporary,” Abby said. “It will dissolve in approximately a week. Your scent will be hidden from all. You will be hidden. People will see you, but unless you specifically speak to them and draw their attention, they won’t know they’re seeing you.”

  Brooke put her hand to her chest. “Invisible? I’ll be invisible? You’re sure?”

  Abby shrugged. “Not really. As I said—keep your mouth shut and those you do not wish to see you will not see you.”

  “The fade spell,” Brooke whispered. “You’ve really given me the fade spell.”

  Abby frowned, suddenly uneasy. “How do you know about the fade spell?”

  Brooke smoothed her hand down her shirt. “I’ve heard of it. I thought it was just made up. An urban legend. We talk about fade spells in the pack, some of us. We talk about you, too.”

  “You must not tell anyone about this night, Brooke.”

  “Oh!” Brooke’s eyes widened and she pursed her lips.

  “What?”

  “If no one can see me, I could check out Waifwater Woods, couldn’t I?”

  “Don’t be foolish. It doesn’t matter if you’ll be scentless and invisible. If you go into those woods, you won’t come back out.”

  Brooke tossed her a quick, white smile. “Don’t be upset. I was only joking.”

  But Abby wasn’t so sure.

  Waifwater Woods was a tiny, wooded area just outside town. It contained swamps, dead trees, and stolen bodies of people who’d gone inside and had never come out. The area was surrounded by high fences and warning signs but still some brave—and foolhardy—people continued to try to figure it out. No one ever did.

  The deadly woods were just another quirk, albeit a deadly one, in the strange town of Waifwater.

  Abby pushed open the door and breathed a sigh of relief when Brooke, full of energy and power, jogged to her car.

  “We talk about you, too.”

  She didn’t want anyone talking about her—especially not to a man whose last name was Dean.

  She shut the door and then leaned against it, her stomach fluttering. She could only hope she’d done the right thing.

  “I did do the right thing,” she told Desmond, another of the cats, as he leapt to the table. “I saved a girl from…” But she didn’t finish the sentence. Not out loud.

  It wasn’t like the spell would be forever. If by some chance Brooke had pulled one over on her and went to rob a bank or something…

  But the deed was done.

  If the girl did what she was supposed to do, she’d escape the terrible alpha of the Black Feather Pack.

  “I did the right thing,” Abby told herself, and feeling a little better, went to dye her hair a different color. It had been purple long enough.

  Chapter Two

  Three days later, the frantic howls of her two coonhounds yanked her abruptly from a deep, satisfying sleep. She was wide awake immediately and tossed a look at the clock.

  Seven o’clock.

  In the morning.

  It might not have been so bad but four hours earlier the dogs had awakened her as they sprinted out of the yard, chasing whatever intruder had dared step foot on her property.

  They’d barked all the way down the hollow, as they did when they were rushing to catch the mailman as he hurriedly stuffed junk mail into her box.

  It didn’t matter how distant the intrusion—if someone walked or drove or so much as stuck a toe anywhere in her hollow, the dogs knew.

  And now it was seven o’clock, and she had visitors. Sadie and Elmer weren’t chasing off a sneaky trespasser—they were alerting her to company.

  It was too early for clients. Besides, all her clients knew to call before visiting.

  She did take walk-ins, but only for those who were in dire need, like Brooke, who’d been too anxious and desperate to call for an appointment.

  She leaned against her bed for a long moment, a hand to her stomach. She wasn’t getting a good feeling.

  Sadie and Elmer began to bray with even more desperation, and she recognized their tone. Company was not only coming, but had arrived.

  She’d heard no vehicle.

  She lifted a heavy black robe from its hook and shrugged her naked body into its silky confines, but had no time to release her heavy—and newly pink—hair from its braids.

  She braided her hair every night before sleep—otherwise she awakened with a tangled mess it took her hours to sort out.

  Then she grabbed her wand but before she could leave her room, her uninvited company began pounding on her front door.

  Elmer and Sadie were going nuts, braying as though a pack of monsters had arrived and were about to eat the dogs alive.

  She’d forbidden them to kill a visitor unless she gave the order. Usually their ferocity was enough to drive off trespassers.

  Abby raised the wand and yanked open the door.

  Eli Dean stood on her porch, naked, his arms crossed.

  Her stomach fluttered but the wand never wavered as she pointed it directly at his bare, rather beautiful chest.

  “We’re closed,” she said, stupidly.

  His stare lingered on her face before dropping to her robe clad body. “We need to talk, witch.”

  He had his grandfather’s scowl.

  She shuddered and ducked her head, regretting that she had no hair behind which to hide her face. Her ugliness. “You’re trespassing. You need to leave.”

  Obviously he’d discovered that she’d helped Brooke escape him.

  She didn’t ask why he hadn’t driven up her hollow instead of shift
ing and running through her woods. She didn’t really care.

  He narrowed his eyes. “Lower that stick before I take it from you. I’m not leaving until I get some answers.”

  At that moment, two other naked people stepped up behind him. One was a man, body as hard and defined as the alpha’s, and the other was a female who looked meaner than both of them.

  “Sadie, Elmer,” Abby said to the barking dogs, her voice calm. “Hush, now.”

  They fell silent immediately.

  The wolf alpha took a step closer. “Good thing they obey you. I didn’t want to have to kill them.”

  She motioned at him with the wand. “Come in. I’ll give you ten minutes. Your two goons will wait outside.”

  The male goon took a half-step forward, growling, but the alpha stopped him in his tracks with a quick command.

  Abby smiled. “Good thing they obey you. I didn’t want to have to kill them.”

  She was pretty sure the female wolf hid a smile behind her fist, but Eli’s almost blank expression didn’t change.

  He walked past her when she motioned him inside, and she shut the door quietly before pointing him into her little sitting room.

  She didn’t ask him to sit.

  She reached up to pat a tight braid, tempted to excuse herself long enough to take down her hair, but that was out of the question. She’d just have to deal with it. “What can I do for you, Mr. Dean?”

  “One of my wolves, a girl named Brooke Dunn, knocked me unconscious in the early hours of this morning and stole the talisman that protects my pack.”

  She lowered the wand and put her free hand to her chest. “What?”

  “Oh yes.” He took a step toward her. “Would you like to feel the back of my head where she smashed in my skull? I haven’t yet shifted long enough to heal it.”

  She refused to step back, though every part of her shrank away from him. “I’m sure you deserved it. I saw the bruises from the beating you gave her. She also told me your plans to…” She shut her mouth, as though by saying the word, she might somehow give him ideas.

  He hands curled into fists at his side. “She lied to you.” He ran his fingers through his hair, then flinched when he touched a sore spot.

  “Perhaps you’re the one lying.”

  “For what reason?”

  He spread his hands and she had to work to keep her stare from his body. Instead, she concentrated on his dark hair as it curled gently around the strong column of his throat. “I don’t know, Mr. Dean. But when a girl comes to me and begs me to save her from rape, then I will do what I can.” She kept her face half turned from him. As if that would do any good.

  She ducked her head, uncomfortable, feeling more exposed than she would have had she been standing in front of a group of strangers, completely naked.

  And he didn’t have the decency to look away, but kept his stare pinned to her face. “You made a very big mistake, Ms. Cameron, and you will fix it.”

  “What do you want from me?”

  “As I’m sure you know, the talisman has been in my pack for decades and keeps the pack safe.”

  “I should think that would be the alpha’s job.”

  His face changed from blank to rage so suddenly she took a step back.

  She’d hit a nerve.

  His jaw bunched as he fought to regain his control. He did not attempt to change his words or defend himself. “You’re going to help me get the talisman back.”

  She shook her head. “I have no idea where Brooke went once she left me.”

  Abby acknowledged the stirrings of guilt growing inside her. No matter what had happened to Brooke, stealing the talisman was a terrible thing to do. She’d put the entire pack in danger.

  “I have to retrieve the stone. I’m sure you know what will happen to us without it. I don’t expect you to care, but I swear with everything I am—you’ll right this wrong, or I will see you dead.”

  Abby nodded. She’d expected nothing less. “I’ll help. Not because you order me to, but because it is my fault it was taken.”

  Waifwater and the pack shouldn’t suffer because he was a Dean. She couldn’t let her hatred of that name color her judgment.

  Rival packs, landless groups, and roaming bands of cruel, sadistic mercenaries would make the Black Feather Pack’s lives miserable—as well as every human in town—when the talisman lost its charge.

  The talisman, in essence, protected them all.

  “How did she steal it? Don’t you keep it hidden?”

  His muscles bunched when he crossed his arms. “Somehow, the traitorous little wolf got inside my home and waited patiently for me to reveal the hiding place. I knew something was going on. Food went missing. Once, the refrigerator door was open. The toilet would flush when no one was in the bathroom. Things like that.” He speared her again with his stare, which seemed to pierce right through to her very thoughts. “I began to believe I had a ghost. Finally, she caught me charging the talisman.”

  Abby tugged at a braid lying tightly against her skull. She’d been had. She knew it, felt it, owned it. “She said you were planning to rape her and pass her around to your subordinates before you killed her.” She closed her eyes. “She was very convincing.”

  The alpha said nothing.

  She shook her head. “I really believed her.”

  “It took me a while to figure out you were the one who’d helped her.” He touched the back of his head. “Apparently I was unconscious for a while. One of my guards said she came running out of my house, muttering.”

  That explained how the guard had seen her. Brooke hadn’t kept her mouth shut.

  “Why didn’t he stop her?”

  “She,” he said. “Remy is one of my betas.” He pointed his chin at the door. “She’s the woman outside.”

  “Whatever,” Abby said. “Why didn’t Remy stop Brooke?”

  His lips tightened. “She thought we’d been—”

  “Okay,” Abby said, holding up a hand. “I get it.”

  “I don’t think Brooke left town.”

  “Why wouldn’t she leave?”

  “Annie, her BFF,” he said, his voice mocking, “told me that Brooke has been talking for quite a while of rising in the ranks of the pack. She wanted to become my mate and rule at my side.”

  Abby shook her head. “And?”

  “She finally figured out that was never going to happen. Annie thinks Brooke made a deal with a landless pack leader—she’d steal the talisman, and the new pack leader would murder me and take over—with Brooke at the helm.”

  “She thinks everything is just that easy,” Abby murmured.

  “She’s young. And foolish.”

  “And greedy,” Abby said. “She’s a greedy girl.” She tried to smother her disappointment. She’d been gullible and Brooke had been very, very convincing.

  The little twat.

  Eli looked around the small room. “We’re wasting time. Look into your crystal ball or tea cup or whatever it is you do, and find my traitorous wolf.”

  Abby curled her lip. “You watch too many movies.”

  He shrugged. “I have no idea how you work your hoodoo, and I don’t care. Just do it. And after we find her, I’d appreciate if you’d stay away from my pack.”

  “She came looking for me.” She held up a hand when he started to speak. “The spell won’t wear off for at least a week.” She paused, full of a very potent guilt. “Bring me something of hers. Clothing she’s recently worn and not washed. Hairbrush. Anything. There’s a good chance Sadie can track her, if she’s truly still in town.”

  Hope lit his face, covering, for one second, the cold blankness he wore like a mask. It made him seem almost…pleasant.

  “I’ll have the item back here in an hour. Be ready.” He stood before her, completely comfortable with his nudity, barking orders like all the world—and she—should bow down before him.

  Just like his grandfather had.

  A sudden spasm of anger caused
her to stiffen, but she kept herself outwardly calm. “I’ll be ready.”

  She was leaving One Hex Hollow, whether she wanted to or not. Worse, she had to spend time with Eli Dean.

  She didn’t hate him.

  She hated his grandfather.

  But he, the alpha, he made her nervous.

  He looked at her.

  Most people had the decency to avert their gazes.

  Not the wolf. His stare was fierce and unapologetic.

  He didn’t seem to understand that she would rather hide than be stared at.

  His pack would stare.

  Still, she’d made the error, and she would fix it.

  She would take Sadie off the land, and she would help the alpha find his talisman.

  But first, she would take out her fucking braids.

  ~.~

  If you enjoyed this sample of UNBREAKABLE, you can buy it on Amazon.

  Read on for the free sample of WE, THE FORSAKEN, book 1 in Laken Cane’s paranormal post-apocalyptic series!

  A preview of WE, THE FORSAKEN

  Book 1 in Laken Cane’s Paranormal post-apocalyptic series, WE, THE FORSAKEN, available now on Amazon.

  Chapter One

  My mother was a writer before the world ended.

  She always wrote each main character’s goal, motivation, and conflict on an index card and pinned it to a corkboard on the wall in front of her desk.

  I think of myself like a character in one of her books. I have my goal, motivation, and conflict written on a paper and tacked to my wall. I look at it every morning when I get up and every night before I go to bed.

  There’s not a lot on it, but it is everything.

  Goal—to stay alive.

  Motivation—I want to live.

  Conflict—everything wants to kill me.

  My days are challenging. Sometimes I think about ripping that paper off the wall. Sometimes I think about ending my story.

  But I won’t.

  I have to finish it.

  I learned something about myself by reading my mother’s books.

  I really, really hate cliffhangers.

  And I refuse to be one.

  I wasn’t scared of the great beyond, but I wasn’t ready to go there.